


Life is (Pretty Damn) Strange

by ghostlyfraggle



Category: Hidden Block (Video Blogging RPF), Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: AU, Brutaltown AU, Coming Out, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Imprisonment, M/M, Missing Persons, Prophetic Visions, Some angst, Time Travel, but not all unfortunately, death/death mentions, ian has purple hair, more tags to be added as I write, some deaths are reversed, suicide/suicide mentions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-04
Updated: 2016-10-29
Packaged: 2018-08-19 14:48:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 25,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8212796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostlyfraggle/pseuds/ghostlyfraggle
Summary: Luke, a music student at Blackwell Academy, reunites with his old best friend after an unfortunate series of events.(Life is Strange AU in which Luke takes the role of Max and Ian takes the role of Chloe).





	1. Episode 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is the longest A/N I'm ever going to write (for this story), fortunately.
> 
> Here are the following roles all the HB guys take in this AU (and if you don't know much about LiS, don't panic! It should be fairly easy to follow along anyway):
> 
> Max - Luke  
> Chloe - Ian  
> Nathan - Caddy  
> Warren/Kate - Jimmy  
> Rachel - Jeff  
> Alyssa (that girl that keeps getting hit by like footballs and things) - Wallid (sorry dude)
> 
> Of course, a lot of things are switched up - such as Jimmy taking on the roles of two people. All the adults pretty much stay the same; Mark Jefferson is still a piece of shit as well as a photography teacher, David Madsen is still Chloe-Ian's step-dad, etc., and certain characters (Victoria and co., Frank) are missing because I couldn't fit them into the plot with the changes I made.
> 
> I'll be tagging this AU as "lipds au" on tumblr and calling the characters "lipds![character]" if I'm referring to them there (my tumblr is @ghostlyfraggle, follow me pl0x).
> 
> It's also pretty great if you read this while listening to the LiS soundtrack, just saying.
> 
> (Side note: there's gonna be a lot of potentially triggering things in future chapters, so if you want me to have warnings for anything in particular PLEASE TELL ME!!!!)

Wind battered him from all sides like closed fists. He had to hold onto his hat with one hand to keep it from blowing away, and he held his other hand inside his sweater sleeve in attempt to keep warm. Giant, icy raindrops fell from the sky, spawning pools of sloppy mud on the forest floor and soaking straight through his clothing.

 

How he got here wasn't a problem at the moment. All he knew was that he needed to get to the lighthouse, the closest building around. He'd be (relatively) safe there.

 

He started the trek up the hill, using tree trunks as leverage. His sneakers dug into the mud, and he could feel cold water seeping into his socks, sending chills up his spine. Waves of thunder left his ribcage rattling, similar to when you turn up the bass too high on a stereo. The lightning was blinding.

 

He broke out into a clearing, the rain pelting him like a shower of BB pellets with the trees no longer there to shelter him. He peered out, over the cliff and towards the sea. Pitch black clouds blanketed the sky, and a terrifying, electric funnel cloud threatened the town below.

 

A sudden clap of thunder shook him from his thoughts.  _ CRASH! _

 

Abruptly, the greying hair and tired eyes of his music teacher were glaring at him. "Luke? Could you tell me the answer?"

 

It took Luke a solid moment to reorient himself. A moment ago he'd been in the forest in the middle of a crazy storm, and now he was back in the dry, warm,  _ safe  _ music room at Blackwell Academy. He gripped at the fabric of his sweater, surprised to find it soft and dry and not at all damp. It must've been a dream.  _ Must've  _ been. But it was so,  _ so  _ real, and he still felt like he was there.

 

He was probably just really tired from writing lyrics all last night. A quick splash of cold water in his face would remedy that.

 

"U-um, no," he stuttered, "I don't know the answer. I really need to use the bathroom though, can I—"

 

"There are only five minutes left of class," the teacher said. "You can wait." 

 

Luke frowned, sinking down in his chair. He tilted the front of his snapback down slightly to hide his embarrassed blush. A snicker came from a curly-haired classmate a few seats away, and if Luke hadn't known better, he'd have said something snarky in reply.

 

"Danny?" The teacher gestured towards the curly-haired snickerer. "Do you know the answer?"

 

He did. Luke stared at the clock as he spoke, throwing in more details than necessary just to show off to Mister Wecht.  _ Tick...tick...tick... _

 

"Alright class," Mister Wecht said, clapping his hands together. "Unfortunately, I have to let you go. Don't forget to work on your projects..."

 

Luke began to rapidly pack up his things, and stood up before anyone else bothered to, his chair squeaking loudly behind him.

 

"...Luke, don't think I can't see you. I'd like to talk to you after class."

 

Luke froze. He'd totally been caught sleeping during class. Whoops.

 

He sunk back into his seat and tapped his fingers on the table in some kind of rhythm. Everyone tumbled out of the room like sand falling through an hourglass, though Danny lingered for a moment to exchange a few suggestive words with Mister Wecht. And then he was gone, and it was just Luke left alone in the classroom with the ninja-like stare of the music teacher.

 

"You were pretty spacey today," Mister Wecht commented, leaning back against his desk at the front of his classroom. "Something up?"

 

"Nah," Luke dismissed him, waving his hand casually. "I was just up late last night. Got a random shot of inspiration at midnight, I'm sure you know how it goes."

 

"Of course I do. Just make sure you get enough sleep, okay? I wouldn't want you to fail the class."

 

"Yeah, 'course, yes sir," Luke stood up from his seat, grabbing his bag, eager to leave the room. "I'll just jot it down on a sticky note next time I get an idea so late. Can I go now?"

 

Mister Wecht let out a throaty chuckle. "Go ahead."

 

Luke rushed out of the classroom and down the hall, desperate to wake himself up. He still felt like he was in that dream, chilled to the bone with mud stains on his shoes.

 

He burst into the bathroom, turned on the faucet of the nearest sink, and let cold water run over his hands. It felt as real as the rain in the dream had.

 

_ BANG _

 

The door slammed open loudly and suddenly, and Luke shut off the faucet before scurrying behind the stalls. Two people entered the room, one was James Caddick—a straight-A, rule-abiding brit who'd moved to Arcadia Bay the year before. The other, donning fading purple hair and a small frown, had a bit of a familiar face, but Luke wasn't entirely sure who he was.

 

"Look," purple-hair said, holding his hands up in self-defence. "I dunno what you  _ think  _ I know, but I don't know anything. I just asked a simple question."

 

"I had nothing to do with the disappearance of your fucking boyfriend!" James, more commonly known as Caddy, exclaimed, reaching suspiciously towards his back pocket. Luke pressed his back against the stall, hoping he wouldn't be seen.

 

"I never said you did!" Purple-hair replied. "I just...whoa."

 

Caddy had pulled a gun out of his back pocket. Purple-hair raised his hands up slightly, fear glittering in his eyes. "Also, we never...he wasn't my boyfriend."

 

"Sure, whatever," Caddy rolled his eyes. "You could get me fucking expelled for this, you know."

 

"For  _ what _ ?!" Purple-hair yelled. "I told you, I don't fucking know anything! I was just trying to piece some information together, that's  _ it _ . And you're one of the only people I haven't asked."

 

"You really think he's still alive, don't you?"

 

"Do you have evidence that he's  _ not _ ?"

 

_ BANG _

 

The gun was pointed and shot. Purple-hair's eyes widened as the bullet lodged itself in his neck.

 

Luke's breath hitched in his throat as he turned away, not wanting to look. Caddy began to panic, breathing loudly. The body of the purple-haired kid slumped over with a horrifying  _ thump _ , staining the bathroom tiles with blood.

 

"Luke? Could you tell me the answer?"

 

Luke blinked, and suddenly he was back in the music room.

 

His hands weren't wet from the faucet, but they still felt cold. The gunshot still rang in his ears. He could still see the image of the purple-haired kid, eyes wide, blood spurting out the bullet wound in his neck. Could it have been...another dream?

 

"Uh..." Luke mumbled, lost in thought. Mister Wecht waited impatiently.

 

There was no way that was a dream. It felt real, almost realer than the vision he'd had about the storm.

 

Was it some kind of...premonition? A glitch in the matrix?

 

Had he gone  _ back in time _ ?

 

He took a deep breath, resting his hands on his desk in an attempt to steady the room that seemed to be spinning around him.

 

"I guess not," Mister Wecht said. Danny snickered from a few desks away, and Mister Wecht nodded towards him. "Danny? Do you know the answer?"

 

Everything was playing out just as it had before.

 

Danny rattled off the answer, attempting to impress Mister Wecht as he did so, and Luke stared at his fists, waiting for class to end. Perhaps he could avoid talking to Mister Wecht this time?

 

He paused, concentrating on seconds at they passed. He could feel them ticking, like the gears of a clock, and suddenly they were going in reverse.

 

Time rewound around him.

 

"I guess not," Mister Wecht said. Danny snickered from a few desks away, and Mister Wecht nodded towards him. "Danny? Do you know the answer?"

 

He'd gone back.

 

Danny spoke his answer just as he had before, and Luke stared at the clock nervously. He had to get out of here, and go to the bathroom so he could stop that kid from dying.

 

"Alright class," Mister Wecht said, clapping his hands together. "Unfortunately, I have to let you go. Don't forget to work on your projects..."

 

Luke began to rapidly pack up his things, just as he had before.

 

"...Luke, don't think I can't see you. I'd like to talk to you after class."

 

Aw, crap.

 

He sunk back into his seat, waiting as students tumbled out of the room rapidly. Danny lingered to flirt with Mister Wecht, as he had before. And then he was gone, and Luke was left alone with the teacher.

 

"You were pretty spacey today," Mister Wecht commented, leaning back against his desk at the front of his classroom. "Something up?"

 

Luke debated telling the truth, but ultimately decided Mister Wecht would simply think he was insane. "Nope," he said, waving his hand dismissively. "I was just up pretty late writing lyrics last night, you know how it goes."

 

"Of course I do. Just make sure you get enough sleep, okay? I wouldn't want you to fail the class."

 

"Yeah, 'course, yes sir," Luke stood up from his seat, grabbing his bag, eager to leave the room. "I'll just jot it down on a sticky note next time I get an idea so late. Can I go now?"

 

Mister Wecht let out a throaty chuckle. "Go ahead."

 

Luke rushed out of the room even faster than he had before, disregarding everything and heading straight for the bathroom. He burst in as he had before, turned on the faucet and let the cold water run over his hands, and then...

 

_ BANG _

 

The door slammed open and both Caddy and purple-haired kid entered the room. Luke hid behind the stall again, glancing around to find something,  _ anything _ , that could help prevent the death of the purple-haired kid.

 

"Look, I dunno what you  _ think  _ I know, but I don't know anything. I just asked a simple question." Purple-hair began to speak, and the babbling went on. Luke eyed the fire alarm on the wall. It was perhaps the only chance.

 

He shuffled over to the alarm, hoping not to get caught.

 

"I never said you did! I just...whoa." Purple-hair spoke just as he had before, and Luke knew the gun had been pulled.

 

"Also, he's not...we—" Luke pulled the alarm, effectively cutting off the conversation. He lingered by the wall until he was sure the both of them were gone.

 

He'd just...he'd just saved someone's  _ life _ .

 

He stood, staring at the dirty bathroom tile as the alarm blared with the ferocity of a thousand cicadas. It was taking him a moment to process everything.

 

He exited the bathroom, the alarm still ringing in his ears. The halls had already been mostly cleared, aside from the principal, who was standing in the middle of the hall, staring at Luke as he emerged.

 

"Mister Sizemore, is something—"

 

"Dude!" Luke exclaimed, running up to the adult. He realized after speaking that calling the principal "dude" was probably not the best decision. "I just saw James Caddick waving a gun around in the bathroom! I freaked and pulled the alarm, sorry."

 

The principal sighed, rubbing his eyes with his thumb and index finger.

 

"James?" He said, the doubt evident in his tone. "You  _ do  _ know that James has  _ never  _ broken a single rule in the entire time he's been at Blackwell, correct? Not even by accident. The likelihood of him having a gun is...well,  _ un _ likely."

 

"I know what I saw!" Luke exclaimed, gesturing wildly.

 

The alarm was shut off, leaving the halls quiet and echoey.

 

"You're sure it was James? Not someone else?"

 

"One hundred percent."

 

"Fine, I'll look into it," the principal said, still not sounding convinced. "Now...get out of here."

 

Luke nodded, swallowing hard and walking out the front doors of the building. The fresh, salty air of Arcadia Bay was mildly comforting after that hour's events, and Luke breathed it in like he'd just popped his head out of suffocating water.

 

His phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

**Jim-Jam**

_ 4:07 PM _

hey remember that flash drive i let you borrow??? yeah i want it back now :^)

 

**You**

_ 4:07 PM _

Hang on it's in my dorm

 

**Jim-Jam**

_ 4:08 PM _

k cool beans meet me in the lot maybe?

 

**You**

_ 4:09 PM _

Sure

 

Luke started towards the boy's dorms. Students were bustling about, discussing the events of the day or simply rushing to get back to their rooms. The missing person's posters that were scattered around campus caught Luke's eye, like they always did; Luke didn't really know who the person was or how long he'd been missing, but the posters seemed to multiply every week.

 

They featured a black and white picture, obviously printed on a printer running low on ink. Below that was a name,  _ Jeff Fabre _ , an explanation of where he'd last been seen and what he was wearing, as well as a phone number.

 

When Caddy and the purple-haired kid had been talking in the bathroom, it had been about somebody who'd disappeared. Maybe it was Jeff?

 

Luke walked past a couple of kids tossing a football around. One of them miscalculated the trajectory of his throw and instead of being caught, the ball sailed over the intended recipient's head and right into the back of another person's. Luke recognized him to be Wallid; they didn't talk much, but he seemed like a pretty friendly guy.

 

Wallid grunted in discomfort when the leather slammed against his skull. "Ow! Hey!"

 

After a moment of ignorance, Luke realized he could warn Wallid of the impending football before it was even thrown.

 

He stopped for a moment, concentrating on every second like a ticking clock. Time rewound around him until there was just a moment before the football hit Wallid in the back of his head.

 

"Hey! Look out!" Luke exclaimed, and Wallid ducked instinctively. The football soared over his head, landing in a bush across the way.

 

"Whoa!" The person who'd thrown it exclaimed. "That almost hit you. Sorry!"

 

He galloped over to retrieve the renegade ball, and Wallid shot a thankful glance in Luke's direction.

 

"That...really would have hurt," he said, placing a bookmark in the book he'd been reading and setting it gently on his lap. "Thanks for the heads up."

 

"Not a problem," Luke dismissed.

 

That was the second person he'd saved that day. Of course, one was a  _ little  _ more dire than the other, but it was still a good deed, and it made something in his chest lift a bit.

 

Luke roamed towards the dorms and entered the building, brushing past shoulders and groups of gossipers.

 

Each dorm room housed one student and had a whiteboard mounted on the door. Most stated fairly mundane things, like the owner's name or "[someone] sucks balls". Unfortunately, James Caddick's couldn't be quite so normal, and he had to go and write  _ Jeff Fabre is DEAD  _ on his. How grim.

 

Obviously, the person they'd been talking about in the bathroom  _ was  _ Jeff, or Caddy wouldn't have written that.

 

Luke tried to ignore the disturbing message to the best of his ability as he unlocked and entered his own room. It was as clean as was possible (not very clean at all). A laptop, pillow, and bunched-up blanket sat comfortably on the couch, water-damaged posters lined the walls, rugs overlapped on the floor, and musical equipment was scattered about, the cords tangled. On the desk sat another computer, a notification blinking on its bright screen. Beside that was the flash drive Luke had come to retrieve.

 

He snatched up the flash drive (pink with "JIMMY" written on it lazily in black sharpie) and sent a quick text to his friend that he was on his way to the lot.

 

He shoved the drive in his pocket as he walked. It contained recently-aired episodes of a cartoon they both liked, and Jimmy had let him borrow it to catch up on the series. It was kind of girly and childish, but it had really cool music and characters with depth. Luke enjoyed talking to Jimmy about it.

 

Jimmy was waiting in the lot, hands covered by the sleeves of his pale pink sweater in an attempt to fight off the chill of the crisp fall air. He sat on the curb, staring at something on his phone intently, and jumped slightly when Luke tapped him on the shoulder.

 

"Oh!" Jimmy exclaimed, shutting off his phone and meeting Luke's gaze. "You're here already. Can I have my flash drive back, now?"

 

"Oh, crap, flash  _ drive _ ?" Luke said, fake surprise on his face. "I thought you said flash _ light _ ."

 

Jimmy frowned. "Funny."

 

"Yeah, here's your illegal cartoons," Luke fished the drive out of his pocket, laughing, and handed it to the unamused Jimmy. Jimmy purposefully let his fingers brush against Luke's when he took the object out of his hand.

 

It wasn't really a secret at this point: Jimmy Whetzel, self-proclaimed flamboyant gay of Blackwell Academy, had a  _ massive  _ crush on Luke. He'd tried to hide it at first, but gave up on that tactic eventually. It wasn't that Luke didn't swing his way, Luke was pretty sure he was into guys  _ and  _ girls, but he didn't really see Jimmy as anything more than a younger brother.

 

"Thanks," Jimmy said, in a way that was almost...cold.

 

Luke opened his mouth to reply, but quickly shut it and turned around when a familiar british accent hit his ears.

 

"HEY!" Caddy yelled, standing about a hundred feet away from the lot and pointing towards Luke. "YOU!"

 

He was ran at them, fury in his eyes. He slowed when he got closer, but pointed a finger right towards Luke's chin, and Luke couldn't help but imagine it was a gun as he backed away into the parking lot.

 

"I know what you did," Caddy said. "You saw, didn't you? And you told the principal, didn't you? I'll fucking kill you for this."

 

Luke would've found the threat empty, if not for what he'd seen and prevented earlier in the day.

 

"Hey, hey, calm down," Luke raised his hands in the air slightly. "I was scared, alright? I'm not looking for tr—"

 

"How much did you hear?" Caddy cut him off.

 

"What?"

 

" _ HOW MUCH DID YOU HEAR _ ?"

 

"W-whoa, I didn't hear anything, okay?" Luke backed further into the parking lot, hoping desperately he wouldn't blindly slam into a car and embarrass himself. "I just saw the gun, panicked, and pulled the alarm. No hard feelings, okay?"

 

A car began to approach. Both Luke and Caddy turned their heads—it was a rusty grey pickup truck, with the purple-haired kid from earlier behind the wheel. He screeched to a stop, surprise evident on his face.

 

Luke froze. He stared at the purple-haired kid sitting in the front of the pickup. He'd seen that pickup before, and he'd seen the purple-haired kid sitting  _ in  _ the pickup before.

 

_ Luke  _ had sat in that pickup before.

 

"Luke!" The newcomer yelled out the open, driver's side window. "Get the fuck in here!"

 

"Ian?" Luke mouthed quietly. His attention was diverted when Jimmy grabbed Caddy around the neck, dragging him backwards.

 

"Get the  _ hell  _ away from him!" Jimmy yelled. Luke took Jimmy's aggressive behavior as a well-timed distraction, and he ran towards the passenger's side of the car, hopping in as quickly as possible. Ian began to drive before he'd even shut the door.

 

They drove out of the parking lot, Luke eying Jimmy as he scuffled with Caddy on the concrete. Jimmy was going to chew him out for that later.

 

Ian had Luke's long time friend whom he'd lost contact with when he moved to Seattle five years ago. When Luke had left, Ian had brown hair, smiled occasionally, and was much too shy to get into anything involving anyone who'd bother to carry a gun.

 

Now he had fading purple hair, streaky and poorly dyed. A beanie covered half of his head, various buttons pinned to it (including the logo for the band  _ Queen _ , a gay pride flag, and one that simply read "GFY", which Luke knew was an acronym for something less-than-nice). He wore a dark-colored jacket over a v-necked purple tee shirt, and rough stubble covered his jaw.

 

Luke briefly took note of the gay pride button, wondering if it was for alliance purposes or otherwise.

 

"Luke," Ian could barely choke the name out while concentrating on the road. "What the  _ hell _ ."

 

"Hello to you too, Mister Sunshine," Luke replied.

 

"Exactly  _ how  _ long have you been going to Blackwell?" Ian asked, one hand on the wheel, the other reaching to turn down the stereo.

 

"A few weeks," Luke said sheepishly, looking down at his knees, where he'd balled his hands into fists so tight they were the color of snow. "I'm sorry, okay? I was going to call you I just—"

 

"Five years," Ian cut him off, his voice quiet and rough. "Not a single email, call, text, visit, letter,  _ anything _ . And now you're back in Arcadia Bay, and you don't even bother to say hi? Let me know you're around? My mom would love to see you, y'know. She missed you almost as much as I did."

 

Luke paused.

 

"You missed me?"

 

"Of  _ course _ , you asshole!" Ian exclaimed, letting a smile light up his words. "You were my best friend for my whole life, five years isn't going to change that, no matter how much of a dick you are."

 

Luke chuckled. "You've changed."

 

"It happens." Ian shrugged.

 

They paused for a moment, and Luke looked out at the road. "Did you dye your hair yourself? Or did Joyce do it?"

 

"God, my mom wouldn't do it if I  _ paid  _ her. I did it myself. It was black at first. You're lucky you missed my emo phase."

 

"Oh, god, you had an emo phase?" Luke let himself relax.

 

"Unfortunately," Ian breathed. "Anyway, I have to ask, sorry. What did James want with you?"

 

"I saw him with a gun and told the principal," Luke said, as though it was no big deal. "He didn't like that. You got any idea why he's so angry?"

 

"Yeah, kinda," Ian began. "He...I think he knows something about the disappearance of Jeff Fabre. Have you seen those posters around school?"

 

"Yeah. Did you know Jeff?"

 

"Yeah, I...hang on. We're almost back to my place."

 

Ian pulled the pickup into the driveway of the suburban, plainly-colored home. The only sign that anyone lived there was the envelope sticking out of the mailbox. Otherwise, it looked thoroughly abandoned—some of the windows were cracked, the siding was water-damaged, and the front yard was blanketed in weeds.

 

Ian pulled the key out of the ignition, shoving it in his pocket and hopping out onto the cracked asphalt. Luke followed, and the two walked up to the door and entered the house.

 

It smelled like a lovely combination of maple syrup and coffee, just as Luke remembered it. Ian lead him upstairs, completely disregarding his mother, Joyce, who was in the kitchen cooking something. Luke debated stopping by to talk to her, but Ian pressed on and Luke felt an obligation to follow.

 

Ian's room had a different smell to it. Coffee and maple syrup were there, sure, but something else filled the area—something stale, and vaguely herbal. The room was slightly different than Luke remembered it. Some of the same posters were still on the walls, and some new ones were. The bed was in the same place, but had new blankets and pillows. The desk was five times messier than it had been before, and a few old, empty boxes of hair dye sat on the bookshelf in the corner.

 

Ian flopped down on the bed, pulling off his purple converse and tossing them to the side. "Like I was saying, I think James knows something about Jeff's disappearance six months ago. He freaked out when I asked him and I'm pretty sure he would've shot me, had he been given the chance. Thankfully, someone pulled the alarm."

 

Luke shifted uncomfortably, trying his hardest not to blurt out all of the strange events he'd been through that day.

 

"So, you knew Jeff?" Luke asked.

 

"Yeah," Ian breathed. He gestured to a worn guitar case covered in stickers resting against the wall. "That's his guitar. He was kind of like...your replacement, almost. He's the one who dealt with me through my emo phase. He..."

 

Ian exhaled, looking down at his knees as he crossed his legs.

 

"He wouldn't have just left without telling me. He's been missing for six months and I've...I haven't had anyone. I put up all those posters at Blackwell, I've looked everywhere I could think. He won't answer his phone or texts or anything."

 

"Are you sure he's still alive?" Luke realized he'd crossed a line when Ian shot him a not so friendly glare. 

 

"He's gotta be," Ian said sternly. "I don't...I don't know if I can live without him."

 

"Oh." Luke looked down. The room was plunged into uncomfortable silence, the only noises being the whirring fan of Ian's desktop computer and the clanging of pots and pans from downstairs.

 

Ian patted the spot on the bed beside him. "Stop being so awkward. C'mere."

 

Luke, cautious not to trip on any of the clutter on the floor, walked over and sat down on the edge of the bed. 

 

"So, what have  _ you  _ been up to?" Ian asked, leaning back against the headboard.

 

"Not much," Luke answered honestly. "It's been a pretty empty five years for me. Friends came and gone. Music started to become more of a career path than a hobby."

 

"Is that what you're studying at Blackwell?"

 

"Yeah." Luke let himself settle into a more comfortable position. "The teacher's pretty cool. Brian Wecht, former physics professor. Unfortunately, his classes end up being more like lectures, but he's an amazing musician so that makes up for it."

 

"Why would anyone quit  _ physics  _ for  _ music _ ?" Ian questioned, glancing in Luke's direction. Luke shrugged.

 

"Dunno. His choice."

 

Another moment of silence, this one more comfortable than the last. Luke felt almost like he was thirteen again, just hanging out with Ian like he always used to.

 

_ SLAM _

 

A door shut loudly downstairs. Luke would have thought nothing of it, if it hadn't been for the curse Ian mumbled under his breath.

 

"What?" Luke asked, turning to face him with his feet tucked under his thighs.

 

"My step-dad's home," Ian said begrudgingly.

 

"Joyce started dating again?" Luke asked. William, Ian's bio-dad, had died in a car crash several years ago. Five years ago, the last time Luke had talked to him, when Luke was thirteen and Ian was fourteen, it was understandable for Ian to still be grieving as the death hadn't been too long ago. But five years had passed since then, and even more since William's death, and Luke was worried he still hadn't let it go.

 

"Unfortunately," Ian said, shifting to a position that implied he was about to stand up. "You're probably acquainted with him, actually. He's the security guard at Blackwell."

 

"Whaaaat?" Luke said. "Creepy ol' David's your step-dad? Man, I feel bad for you."

 

"Yeah, I swear I'm being watched ninety percent of the time he's home," Ian said. "Actually, now that he's here we sh—"

 

"HEY!" A stern, very step-dadish voice shouted up the stairs, growing rapidly closer with each pounding footstep. "IAN! WHO ARE YOU TALKING TO?"

 

"Fuck," Ian said, standing up, grabbing his converse off the floor, and rushing towards the window. "I don't wanna deal with him right now. Let's go."

 

"Out the  _ window _ ? Ian, we're on the second flo—"

 

"It's really not that far of a drop, I promise. C'mon! Let's  _ go _ !"

 

Luke hesitated, but stood up and followed Ian to the window. Ian had pried it open and was slipping his converse on, stepping over the clutter on the desk and preparing to jump.

 

Clearly, he'd done this before.

 

Ian slid out the window and landed with a soft  _ thump  _ onto the dry backyard grass below. Luke, wishing for a moment he had more careful friends, followed.

 

The landing sent a jolt through his ankles and up his spine, but he had no time to stop and think about it. Ian abruptly grabbed his hand, and they were slipping through a hole in the chain-link fence and out into the woods, towards the lighthouse.

 

It was exactly the same spot Luke had had been in his storm vision.

 

They climbed the dirt path, through the trees and towards the cliff. Ian hadn't bothered to let go of Luke's hand, and he felt himself unconsciously gripping onto it tighter as they climbed.

 

It was nice to be in the woods when it was sunny.

 

The whole area smelled like greenery and seawater, dirt and rotting wood. It was a nice scent, a nostalgic scent. Back when he and Ian had been kids, they'd played in the woods and by the lighthouse all the time.

 

They broke out of the trees and into the clearing atop the cliff and near the lighthouse. Ian let go of Luke's hand, and suddenly the air felt much colder against Luke's palm.

 

A worn metal bench on a small concrete platform sat overlooking the sea. Ian, without hesitation, walked over and sat on it.

 

Luke sat next to him, staring out into the sky. Clouds gathered at the horizon, white and fluffy but still mildly ominous.

 

_ CRASH! _

 

A burst of lightning and an explosion of thunder gave way to a much different scene. Luke was still sitting on the bench as he had been before, but Ian was no longer next to him, and rain pelted his back so hard it felt like hail.

 

The electric funnel cloud loomed over the town, growing bigger and stronger with every passing second.

 

"Ian?" Luke whimpered. No response.

 

He stood up, nearly slipping on the muddy concrete below the bench, and carefully, slowly, walked around in search of his friend. No matter if it was a dream or not, he had to make sure Ian was safe.

 

He crossed his arms over his chest, lowering his head against the wind.

 

"Luke?" A voice, Ian's voice, cut through the fog. It echoed like a wolf's howl.

 

"Ian? Where—"  _ CRASH _

 

Another flash of lightning, followed by thunder. Luke blinked.

 

The sky was clear once more. Luke was back, sitting on the bench, and Ian was next to him. One of Ian's hands rested on Luke's knee, the other on his shoulder.

 

"Luke," Ian said, "are you okay?"

 

"Ian?" Luke mumbled, turning his head to meet Ian's concerned stare. Ian carefully removed his hands from Luke's shoulder and knee. "What happened?"

 

"You just spaced out," Ian explained. "You looked...scared. Like, like you were possessed or something."

 

"Ian," Luke began, tearing his gaze away from Ian's and staring at the dirt in front of his feet. "Ian, I need to tell you something."

 

"Is something wrong?"

 

"Earlier today, when you and Caddy were talking in the bathroom...I was there."

 

"What?" Ian laughed, hoping Luke was joking.

 

"I was hiding behind the stalls. He pulled out the gun, you said something about evidence, and then he shot you in the neck. You...you died."

 

"Luke, I'm  _ right here _ ," Ian said, "how could I have died? Are you saying I-I'm a ghost or something?"

 

"No, just listen," Luke said, balling his hands into fists. "You died, and I blinked, and suddenly I was back in class. As soon as class was over I rushed back to the bathroom, waited until Caddy pointed his gun at you, and then I pulled the fire alarm."

 

"What are you saying?"

 

"Ian, I don't know how," Luke turned to look at Ian, "but I can rewind time."

 

"I'm sorry,  _ what _ ?" Ian laughed nervously. "You can fucking  _ time travel _ ?"

 

"Ian, this is serious," Luke said, furrowing his eyebrows.

 

"Prove it." Ian playfully punched Luke in the arm, and Luke saw his opportunity.

 

He concentrated on every second like a ticking clock. Time rewound around him, if only by a few seconds.

 

"I'm sorry,  _ what _ ?" Ian laughed nervously. "You can fucking  _ time travel _ ?"

 

"Ian, this is serious," Luke repeated.

 

"Prove it." Before Ian could punch Luke's arm, Luke reached up and grabbed his fist. "How did you know—"

 

"I'm proving it," Luke said, his lips twitching up in the smallest of smirks.

 

Ian's eyes widened.

 

This was real.


	2. Episode 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Luke learns more about his power, Jimmy runs into some "trouble", and Ian nearly dies again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !!!!!! MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING FOR SUICIDE THIS CHAPTER !!!!!!
> 
> A bit shorter than the last, but only by a few hundred words. Ian was originally going to die twice this chapter, but I switched some things around lmao. You're welcome, Ian ;3
> 
> Anyway, enjoy! (if you don't want to read because you're worried about the tw, just lemme know and I'll summarize it)

Luke didn't get much sleep that night.

 

The mattress felt stiffer than normal, the bedspread scratchier, and the pillow flatter. The clock on the wall, though normally easy to tune out, ticked loudly with a volume that rang in Luke's ears. He couldn't get the sounds of whipping wind and crashing thunder out of his head. They were stuck there, like a grim song.

 

He'd already been up later than normal, searching the internet for  _ something _ ,  _ anything  _ that indicated time travel was a real thing. Nothing substantial had come up, at least, nothing that helped with Luke's situation.

 

He planned to ask Mister Wecht about it later, as a physics professor rather than a music teacher. He might be able to provide at the very least a small piece in this unsolvable puzzle.

 

And then there was Ian, with his fading purple hair, eyes aged far beyond their years, and an attitude that implied he was just  _ done  _ with everything. He barely resembled the kid Luke used to play with; they had the same dark sense of humor, and the same glowing smile, but that was where it ended. The old shyness had been switched for carelessness, the occasional breakout of joy for a depressive demeanor that Luke really hated to see.

 

The clock ticked on. Luke was sure he was falling in and out of sleep, because one moment he looked and it was 1:55, but the next it was 3:15. And before he knew it, the alarm began to blare at 6:00 AM like it always did, and Luke didn't even bother to hit snooze.

 

He pulled on a clean hoodie over his tee-shirt that he'd worn to bed, but didn't bother to switch out his sweatpants or socks. He grabbed his snapback from its resting place on the desk next to his computer before heading to the showers to get ready for the day.

 

Everything felt too normal after yesterday's events. It seemed like something should be  _ happening _ . Everyone should have locked themselves in their dorms, there should have been tighter security. It shouldn't've been sunny outside, either. The sky should have been covered in gloom.

 

People bustled about like nothing was wrong, like Caddy hadn't nearly killed someone in the bathroom and like Jeff wasn't missing, and the day seemed to speed by, like everything was going in fast-forward.

 

Luke stayed back after class to discuss the possibility of time travel with Mister Wecht. He didn't provide any new information, unfortunately.

 

Luke exhaled loudly as he trudged out of the room and into the hall. He hadn't realized how long he'd been talking to his teacher, but the halls were almost entirely empty. However, around the corner, two familiar, arguing voices brushed past his ears.

 

He rounded the corner. David Madsen, the school's unfortunate excuse for a security guard, had backed Jimmy up against the lockers. Jimmy looked about like he was going to cry. David was relentless, and wouldn't let Jimmy speak at all.

 

"...no reason to be hanging around that crowd," David said, his ugly greying moustache twitching with his words. "You're a good student. I hate seeing good students lost to the Vortex Club. I  _ strongly  _ advise you stop going to their events."

 

"I don't!" Jimmy exclaimed. "That video's fake I'm not—"

 

"I've seen that video," David continued, "it's not fake,  _ trust  _ me. You're not getting anywhere by lying, Whetzel."

 

"I-I'm not lying," Jimmy stuttered, curling his hands into tight fists. "I don't know how that video was made, or who made it, but I'm  _ not  _ the person in it!"

 

His eyes were shut now, like being unable to see David would help remedy the situation. Luke debated intervening, but he really didn't want to argue with David, not matter the circumstance.

 

David grunted, backing away and allowing Jimmy some room to breathe. "I'll be keeping a close eye on you."

 

He left, and Jimmy slid to his knees, hands in his hair, jaw quivering. Luke rushed over to him, setting his bag on the ground and kneeling next to the trembling teen.

 

"Hey," Luke spoke quietly. "Are you okay?"

 

Jimmy shook his head slowly. "No. 'Course not. It seems like everyone's seen that  _ fucking video _ ."

 

"Not everyone," Luke said, "I have no idea what video you're talking about."

 

"I haven't even seen it," Jimmy's voice shook as he spoke. "I just know that  _ I'm  _ in it, and it's at some Vortex Club party. I remember going to that party. I didn't want to go, Wallid roped me into it. I didn't drink or anything. And at some point I passed out, and I remember seeing one of the teachers looking down at me, and then I woke up in front of my room."

 

"Jimmy," Luke said, "it sounds like you were drugged."

 

"I mean, maybe?" Jimmy shrugged through a sob. "In the video apparently I was, like, making out with people. I don't even like  _ dating _ , Luke."

 

"Then why do you—" Luke stopped himself. He was about to ask why Jimmy had such an obvious crush on him, then, if he didn't like dating. But Luke wasn't positive if he was supposed to know about that or not.

 

Unfortunately, Jimmy seemed to know what he was going to say.

 

"Why do I like you?" Jimmy finished the sentence for him. "It's...different. I hate going on dates, especially formal ones. I wouldn't kiss a stranger for a million dollars, even though apparently I  _ did _ . But I'd love someone to just, I dunno, cuddle with? Someone who makes me feel loved. And even if we're not dating and even if we never do, you still make me feel loved."

 

Luke was taken aback.

 

He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around Jimmy, holding onto him like he was the only handhold on the edge of a cliff.

 

"You should go to the police about this," Luke mumbled, changing the subject.

 

"I feel like I can't," Jimmy said, into Luke's hoodie. "That video, it's everywhere. There's no way they'll believe me."

 

"But what if you  _ were  _ drugged?" Luke said, pulling away and gripping onto Jimmy's shoulders. "Don't you want to know who's responsible? Don't you want them to get what they deserve?"

 

"I don't know, Luke," Jimmy said, looking down at the dirty tiles of the hallway. "I'd rather forget this ever happened. Hey, totally unrelated, do you know how to delete a viral video?"

 

Luke frowned, not finding it funny. Perhaps Ian would, he had that same kind of grim sense of humor. Luke didn't.

 

Suddenly, Luke's phone buzzed in his pocket. He took his hands off Jimmy's shoulders in favor of the mobile device.

 

**Ian**

_ 4:37 PM _

Wanna meet at Two Whales?

 

Two Whales was a diner, owned, managed, and waitressed by Ian's mother, Joyce. Luke let the response fly out of his fingers without bothering to think about it.

 

**You**

_ 4:38 PM _

Dude of course

 

**You**

_ 4:38 PM _

I'll be a bit I've gotta take the bus

 

**Ian**

_ 4:39 PM _

That's fine

 

**You**

_ 4:39 PM _

Cool, see ya soon!

 

Luke shut off his phone, slipping it back into his pocket. "Jimmy, I've gotta go, are you going to be okay?"

 

Jimmy hesitated.

 

"Yeah," he said, unconvincingly. "I'll be fine."

 

"You're  _ sure _ ?" Luke insisted. "If you need me to stay, I can."

 

"No, it's cool," Jimmy said. "Go ahead."

 

Luke left, picking up his bag, his footsteps echoing in the empty hallways.

 

He placed his bluetooth headset over his snapback and his ears, letting music drown out the world around him. Everything was still so unreal.

 

The sun warmed his back as he waited at the bus stop. With the rate it was taking to arrive, Luke debated walking instead, wondering if it would be faster.

 

Eventually, the bus came. Luke stared melodramatically out the window as the bus crossed the town towards Two Whales, eyeing the worn buildings and unkempt sidewalk. Arcadia Bay, like its residents, had changed since Luke had last lived there. The usually cheery place was now gloomy and depressive.

 

He was excited to finally see Joyce again. Unlike her son, she was outgoing and affectionate. Being a good friend of Ian's, she'd acted as a second mom to Luke when he was growing up, and he'd missed her.

 

The bus pulled up to the curb near Two Whales diner. As Luke stepped out and headed towards the diner entrance, he paused the music on his phone and pulled his headphones off his ears, letting them rest around his neck, the earpieces sitting comfortably on his collar bones.

 

The bell above the door jingled with the same enthusiasm as he remembered.

 

The interior smelled of sausage, coffee, and pancakes, fresh off the griddle. The sizzling of bacon and the quiet rush of a running faucet hit Luke's eardrums gently. Joyce stood behind the counter, an apron tied around her waist, with frowning lips but smiling eyes.

 

She made eye contact with him, and immediately left her position, waddling on her high-heels towards the door.

 

"Luke!" She said, scooping him up in a tight embrace. He stood there in the way you do when relatives you don't know particularly well insist on hugging you; not because he didn't like Joyce's hugs, but because she was holding onto him  _ so tightly _ . "How long have you been back in the Bay? Have you said hi to Ian yet?"

 

She pulled away, and Luke rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. "I've been back for a few weeks," he began to explain. "I saw Ian for the first time since I arrived yesterday. We were hanging out in his room. I'm a bit surprised you didn't notice me come in."

 

"Oh, that was you?" Joyce said. "Ian brings boys home all the time, I didn't think to check. Did David chase you out? I'm so sorry. He means well, I promise."

 

"It's fine, don't worry about it." Luke laughed. "Actually, I'm here to meet Ian. Haven't seen him, have you?"

 

"Nope, not yet," Joyce turned and walked back to her post behind the counter. "Feel free to find a seat, though, and I'll let him know where you are when he shows up."

 

"Cool, thanks." Luke slid into a booth near one of the windows, and stared at the nutrition facts on the back of the ketchup bottle until a familiar figure sat across from him.

 

Luke looked up. "Hey," Ian said, cracking his knuckles casually. He was hatless today, his hair mildly messy now that it was free from its confines.

 

"What's up?" Luke asked.

 

"I was thinking about this supposed  _ power  _ of yours," Ian began, leaning forward on his elbows. "I want to test it. Just to suspend my disbelief."

 

"And how do you propose we do that?"

 

"What's in my pockets?"

 

Luke hesitated.

 

It was a simple question. But there was no way Luke would be able to accurately answer without rewinding time, he realized. He'd have to get Ian to reveal the contents of his pockets, then rewind time and answer the question again.

 

"Hell if I know," Luke said bluntly. "Some change, maybe? Car keys?"

 

Ian pulled out what he'd had in his pockets, and laid it out on the table. A couple of coins and a wrinkled dollar bill. A moose figurine keychain with four keys. His phone. A receipt for a gas station. A swiss army knife. An old, semi-transparent guitar pick.

 

Luke focused on every second, ticking in his mind like the hands of a clock, until he could feel time rewinding around him.

 

"What's in my pockets?"

 

Luke shut his eyes, trying to picture the items that had been on the table in front of him only a moment ago. "Your phone," he began, looking towards Ian for confirmation.

 

"Yep," Ian said.

 

"A swiss army knife," Luke continued.

 

"Uh-huh."

 

"Some cash."

 

"How much?"

 

Crap. Luke didn't know. "Um. An amount."

 

"Funny," Ian mumbled, "but incorrect."

 

He pulled the items out of his pockets again, laying them on the table. Luke studied them harder this time, trying to remember tiny details.

 

Two dollars and fifteen cents in cash. He could remember that. Four keys, moose keychain. His phone. Gas station receipt, almost too crinkled to read, but he'd definitely bought a lighter. Swiss army knife. Old, semi-transparent guitar pick, sporting a brown pattern.

 

He rewound time again.

 

"What's in my pockets?"

 

Luke furrowed his brows, straining to remember all the details. "Two dollars and fifteen cents. Your phone," he began.

 

"Yep." Ian nodded.

 

"A moose keychain with four keys."

 

"Uh-huh."

 

"A guitar pick."

 

"Yeah. Used to be Jeff's."

 

"A swiss army knife, and a gas station receipt."

 

"What did I buy at the gas station?"

 

"A lighter," Luke finished, leaning back in the booth in somewhat of a smug manner. Ian's lips turned up in a smirk of approval, but Luke felt as though he could show off even more.

 

He rewound time again.

 

"What's in my pockets?"

 

"Two dollars and fifteen cents," Luke began casually, crossing his arms. "Your phone, a swiss army knife, Jeff's old guitar pick, a moose keychain with four keys attached to it, and a gas station receipt. You bought a lighter."

 

Luke smirked. Ian's pupils grew to about twice their original size, his mouth hanging slightly open.

 

The victory was short lived. Luke felt something warm and sticky drip down from his nose onto his upper lip, and instinctively brought the back of his hand up to his face to wipe it off.

 

He pulled it away to find red, smeared like paint, all across his hand and wrist.

 

"Whoa," Ian said, reaching for a napkin. "You okay?"

 

"Y-yeah," luke said, blinking rapidly, confused. Ian handed him a few napkins, and he tilted his head back slightly, wiping his nose before his hand.

 

"You sure? That's...that's a lot of blood," Ian said, concerned.

 

Joyce approached the table, two menus in her one hand. "Everything alright here, boys?" She asked, noticing the bloodstained napkin and the expression Ian was wearing.

 

"Yeah," Luke rushed to reply, not wanting Joyce to worry. "Just a bloody nose, is all. Must be from the dry air, y'know?"

 

"Yeah, I know," she said. "Don't tilt your head back, then the blood has nowhere to go. Just keep switching napkins until it stops, okay?"

 

"Yeah, thanks," Luke said with a smile.

 

"Now," Joyce said, "are you two gonna eat or just sit here and talk all day?"

 

Ian ordered scrambled eggs, Luke pancakes. Joyce let them have it all for free, as she already gave Ian free food on a regular basis and thought it'd be a nice "welcome back to Arcadia Bay" gift for Luke.

 

They didn't talk much as they ate. Luke was too absorbed in his pancakes, and Ian was just being stoic.

 

"Hey," Ian piped up when they were almost done with their food, "I got a place I wanna take you."

 

"Yeah?" Luke said, shoving the last bite of his pancakes into his mouth.

 

"Junkyard," Ian said simply. "I used to hang out there with Jeff a lot. Smells like shit, but there's a lot of cool stuff to climb on and there's some train tracks nearby."

 

"Language, mister." Joyce swept through, grabbing their empty plates. Ian rolled his eyes.

 

"Anyway," Ian continued, "I was thinking we could test your time powers some more. See what kinda trouble we can get into."

 

"Sounds fun," Luke said, sliding out of the booth. "I take it you're driving?"

 

"You bet," Ian said. Luke followed him out of the diner, and to the small parking lot next to the establishment, where the pickup was parked. Luke hopped in the passenger's seat and stared at the various graffiti scattered across the dashboard.

 

Most of it was in Ian's handwriting, which was unchanged from when he was younger. Though some of it was obviously not Ian's writing, and Luke's brain immediately jumped to Jeff, because who else would Ian allow to vandalize his car?

 

Luke thought back to the events of yesterday, and how Caddy had said something like "I had nothing to do with the disappearance of your boyfriend." Obviously he'd been talking about Jeff, but had it been a serious statement or was it in jest? Ian  _ did  _ have that pride button...

 

Luke hated this, speculating. He wished he was comfortable enough with the "new" Ian to just outright ask.

 

The junkyard was about halfway towards Blackwell, slightly off towards the forest-y edge of Arcadia Bay. Ian parked in a seemingly random spot on the dirt, though from the way the space was cleared the the dirt disturbed around the spot, it was probably a regular parking space.

 

They hopped out of the pickup, and Luke was immediately aware of the smell. Like old, burnt metal and rotten meat. He wrinkled his nose. Ian laughed, now standing beside him.

 

"Yeah, you get used to it," he remarked, walking farther into the yard. Luke followed, unsure what kind of testing they could do with his powers here.

 

"So, uh," Luke began, "you came here with Jeff a lot?"

 

"He showed it to me, actually," Ian said, not turning to face Luke. He walked towards a small building, partially destroyed and covered in graffiti. A picnic table sat inside, items scattered on top of it; including a few polaroid selfies of Ian and Jeff, smiling against the sunlight.

 

Ian reached for something else, though. A handgun.

 

Luke tensed slightly when Ian picked the weapon up. "Hey, relax," Ian said, "I'm not gonna shoot you."

 

"Then...what?" Luke asked.

 

"I was thinking we could find something to use as target practice," Ian suggested. "And if we fuck it up and destroy something by accident, you can just rewind time, right?"

 

"I mean, sure." Luke shrugged.

 

"Okay." Ian smiled darkly. "Find something for me to shoot."

 

Luke let his eyes graze over the junkyard. Piles of old car parts, discarded furniture, and building materials were scattered around, reaching high as the tops of trees. Luke exited the small building, Ian following, and pointed towards a tire at the top of one of the piles.

 

"What about that?" Luke asked.

 

Ian held the gun in his right hand, pointed it at the tire, and shot without hesitation. Luke flinched at the noise.

 

"Sorry," Ian apologized. "I should'a warned you."

 

"It's fine." Luke laughed awkwardly, and started looking around for something else Ian could shoot. An empty bottle stood on an old table came into view, and Luke pointed towards it. "Try that."

 

Ian aimed towards it. "Ready?" Luke nodded, and Ian shot. The glass broke with an ear-shattering noise.

 

Ian's face broke out in a grin. Luke smiled back at him, heart racing with the adrenaline that came with this type of rebelliousness.

 

"Over there," Luke pointed at a beam of wood, stood up against some kind of metal...box? Sheet? Something.

 

Ian exchanged a glance with Luke before shooting.

 

He missed the beam, and the bullet ricocheted, right back to him.

 

It lodged itself right in his stomach.

 

"NO!" Luke exclaimed. As if it was an instinct, he rewound time, to just before Ian pulled the trigger.

 

"Hang on," Luke stepped forward, gently grabbing Ian's wrist. "Maybe we should, uh,  _ not  _ play with lethal weapons."

 

Ian tilted his head, confused. "Something happen in the future?"

 

"Yeah," Luke said simply. "Just...yeah. That's twice I've seen you get shot in two days. I'm getting kinda sick of it."

 

He forced out a laugh. Ian lowered the weapon, shoving it in the pocket of his hoodie, and Luke let go of his wrist.

 

"I must be crazy in debt to you," Ian mumbled, looking at the ground. "That's twice now you've saved my life."

 

Luke opened his mouth to respond, but stopped short when something warm and wet dripped onto his lip.

 

Another nosebleed? What—

 

_ CRASH _

 

He wasn't in the junkyard anymore.

 

Rain fell on his back. Thunder crashed around him. Wind relentlessly beat at him.

 

He was back in the storm. Ian wasn't near him, and he was on the cliff, overlooking the electrified vortex that threatened the town below. He wanted to cry. He didn't want to be here again. He wanted to be back with Ian.

 

A branch broke off a nearby tree with a gut-wrenching  _ CRACK _ , and it slammed into Luke's shoulder. A throbbing, dull pain shot through his arm, and with his other, undamaged arm, he clutched his shoulder, hoping to prevent it from being further hurt.

 

He didn't know what to do. He just wanted to be out of this nightmare.

 

He couldn't tell if the water dripping down his cheeks was rain that managed to pass the visor of his snapback or tears.

 

As he stood, he could feel his feet sinking into the mud. He was so close to the edge of the cliff, at any moment the mud could give way, and he'd be falling towards the torrential waves below.

 

He didn't care. He'd just wake up anyway.

 

Suddenly, he was falling, wind rushing past his ears, heart leaping against his ribcage. But he couldn't see the world rushing past him; everything was a blur of black and brownish shapes against his eyelids. Instead of hitting the ground, a pair of arms caught him.

 

The rain was gone. He was dry again, other than the blood that dripped down his nose and into his mouth. The pair of arms released him, letting him rest on something else.

 

He opened his eyes, which still felt sticky as though they were clogged with rainwater and mud. The first thing he saw was Ian's face, looking down at him, his hair falling over his eyes.

 

He was laying on the ground at the junkyard, stray rocks digging into his back, his head on Ian's lap.

 

"Oh my god," Ian said breathily. "Are you okay? What the  _ hell  _ just happened?"

 

"Good morning," Luke joked, bringing a hand to his face to wipe away the blood. Instead of wiping it off as he'd intended, it smeared all over his cheek and mouth. Ian snorted.

 

"Answer the damn question you idiot," Ian said through a laugh.

 

"Which one? I don't know the answer to either." Luke licked his lips and the metallic taste of blood filled his tastebuds. "I'm fine, I guess? I mean I didn't hit my head or anything, did I?"

 

"No, you didn't," Ian reassured. "Just...don't fucking do that again. You scared me. You're still scaring me, with all that blood on your face."

 

"Oh, whoops," Luke said, once again trying to wipe the blood off his face. This time he used his hoodie sleeve, which was more effective, but still not substantial. Realizing exactly the position he was in, laying on Ian's lap, he felt heat rush to his face.

 

_ Bzzzzz bzzzzz _

 

Luke's phone vibrated in his pocket. He sat up, and pulled it out; it vibrated again as he did so. He'd gotten two texts, both from Jimmy.

 

**Jim-Jam**

_ 5:17 PM _

yeah remenberr when i said i was gonna be ook earlier? well i lied

 

**Jim-Jam**

_ 5:17 PM _

so uh., bye

 

Luke wasn't usually one to swear, but this was an occasion that warranted it.

 

"Fuck, I gotta go," Luke said, frantically standing up and trying to wipe the now sticky blood off his face. "Could you drive me to Blackwell? It's an emergency."

 

"Yeah, sure." Ian stood up as well, and the two of them rushed to the pickup and hopped inside.

 

Luke frantically typed out a text to Jimmy, hoping it wasn't too late already. And if it was, he would rewind, and try again.

 

**You**

_ 5:19 PM _

hey hey it's gonna be ok

 

**You**

_ 5:19 PM _

is this about the video? about David? about me?

 

**You**

_ 5:20 PM _

please answer me

 

**You**

_ 5:21 PM _

please

 

Luke rubbed at his face with his hands nervously. Ian was going quite above the speed limit, which didn't help the colony of ants that seemed to have taken up residence in Luke's stomach.

 

**Jim-Jam**

_ 5:22 PM _

evrything iis wrong

 

**You**

_ 5:22 PM _

oh thank god you're ok

 

**You**

_ 5:22 PM _

please, please don't do anything you might regret. PLEASE

 

**You**

_ 5:23 PM _

where are you? I'm on my way

 

Terrifyingly, there was no reply.

 

Ian pulled recklessly into Blackwell's parking lot, and Luke hopped out of the car, sprinting towards the boy's dorms with a complete disregard for everything around him. A crowd had gathered around the building, and nervous chatter hovered in the air like fog.

 

"Dude," Wallid said, catching him by the arm. "Are you seeing this?"

 

He pointed towards the roof of the dorms. Standing on the roof was a figure, wearing the same sweater Jimmy had been wearing earlier that day.

 

"NO!" Luke yelled, shutting his eyes tightly. He held out his arms, feeling time rewind like a reflex. When he opened his eyes and looked back up, Jimmy was still on the roof, but the crowd was just beginning to gather.

 

He sprinted forward, bumping into shoulders and ignoring the blood dripping down his face. Another nosebleed. He wasn't sure he'd be able to rewind time again.

 

He entered the dorms and ran up the stairs, trying not to trip over his own feet. He broke out onto the roof.

 

"Jimmy!" He exclaimed, catching his breath and lunging towards the teen.

 

"Go away," Jimmy said. He didn't sound sad, or distraught in any way, simply angry and tired.

 

"No," Luke insisted. "Tell me what's wrong. We can fix it. Problems are temporary, death isn't!"

 

"Yeah, but you know what  _ isn't  _ temporary?" Jimmy turned to face Luke, his eyes red, his cheeks tear-stained. "Videos on the internet."

 

"We can prove you were drugged!" Luke flailed his arms as he spoke. "It's not your fault!"

 

"Luke," Jimmy said, tilting his head in a way that cast his face in shadow. "Everyone thinks I'm some kind of slut. I already get bullied for being gay. The fucking school security guard doesn't even think I'm innocent. The guy I like doesn't like me back, my parents are religious, and I have clinical depression. Name  _ one _ thing, Luke.  _ One  _ thing I have to live for."

 

"To prove yourself innocent?" Luke grabbed Jimmy's hands in his. "To live and find someone else to love, to help teach your parents, to get help so you never do something like this again. There's  _ so much _ , Jimmy. So much you haven't seen."

 

"I don't want to see anything else. I'm tired."

 

"Then take a nap." Luke pulled him into a tight hug, tighter than he'd ever held anyone. Jimmy didn't return the embrace, simply allowed his hands to hang limply at his sides.

 

"I'm so tired, Luke," Jimmy spoke into the fabric of Luke's hoodie. "I'm so tired and I just want to sleep and never wake up."

 

"I know." Luke rested his chin on top of Jimmy's head. "But this isn't the answer. It's never the answer."

 

Jimmy hiccupped a sob. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

 

"It's okay," Luke reassured. "I'm gonna help you sort all this out, okay? I'll find out who took that video and I'll find out who drugged you that night. It's all gonna be okay."

 

Sirens blared below; someone had called nine-one-one.

 

"I don't wanna go to a fucking hospital," Jimmy groaned.

 

"They just want to help you," Luke replied.

 

"I know," Jimmy continued, "but they're gonna force pills down my throat and make me do, like, therapy and shit."

 

_ Bzzzz bzzzz _

 

Luke's phone buzzed. He pulled it out of his pocket, still holding onto Jimmy with one arm.

 

**Ian**

_ 5:34 PM _

dude is everything ok??? im still in the car and i just saw an ambulance go by??

 

**Luke**

_ 5:34 PM _

It's gonna be fine, I hope, but I'm going to need your help with something

 

**Ian**

_ 5:35 PM _

what?

 

**Luke**

_ 5:35 PM _

I'll explain later but I'm gonna need to know everything we can find out about the Vortex Club

 

He shoved his phone in his pocket, ignoring the several buzzes that followed. He found himself spacing out as he was pulled away from Jimmy and escorted down the stairs, out of the dorms, and towards the principal's office.

 

He was sat down in a chair and forced to discuss the events with David Madsen, the principal, and some teacher Luke didn't have any classes with.

 

Throughout all of it, Luke could only thing one thing: He had to find out who was responsible for all of this; the video, the drugs, the supposed bullying Jimmy was going through. No one fucked with Luke's friends and got away with it. Not anymore.


	3. Episode 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> gay shit, sad shit

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for this chapter: mentions of suicide, mainly.
> 
> im sorry ian really :^)

"You're sure we won't get caught?" Luke trudged across the grass, leaves crunching under his shoes like saltine crackers under a meat cleaver. He pulled his hoodie tightly around him, shoving his gloved hands in his pockets. Luke could've sworn Arcadia Bay was warmer than this when he'd lived here last.

 

"Uh, no," Ian said, walking with much more confidence than his friend. "But if we  _ do _ , you can just rewind time, right?"

 

"I dunno, man," Luke replied. They approached the big, glass front doors of the school, which were locked from the inside and would be near impossible to get past. "I'm pretty tired from earlier and I don't want to pass out from blood loss, y'know?"

 

"I'll give you mouth-to-mouth if necessary," Ian said flatly. Luke snorted. "Now help me figure out how we're gonna get in here."

 

Just in case, for some  _ impossible _ , miracle reason it was unlocked, they tried pulling on the door handles. No avail.

 

Ian rammed his shoulder into the glass as hard as he could, which didn't do anything other than likely give him a bruise. Luke would have rewound, but he didn't want to risk using up unnecessary energy; plus, he felt he'd need to tease Ian about it later when he complained about his shoulder hurting.

 

They began looking around for anything they could use to break the glass. A couple large-ish sticks on the ground were the first things Luke managed to find. Ian, however, scraped up a wrench, and he threw it at the glass before Luke had a chance to register what was happening.

 

_ CRASH _

 

It stuck in the glass with a noise as loud as a gunshot, shattering it in a pattern akin to a spiderweb. Luke jumped, startled, and Ian shrugged with an innocent smirk.

 

"Okay, cool," Luke said, "but we still can't get through."

 

"Unrelated question," Ian said, and Luke had a feeling the question was going to be disturbingly related. "If you get injured and then rewind would you still be injured?"

 

"I'd rather not find out."

 

"Okay, if  _ I  _ get injured and then you rewind will  _ I  _ still be injured?"

 

"Ian, I've seen you die twice," Luke said, his tone implying that he was thinking something along the lines of  _ I'm so done with your bullshit but we're friends so I'll put up with it anyway _ . "What do you think?"

 

"Oh, okay," Ian said. "Prepare to rewind, then."

 

Luke rolled his eyes and braced himself mentally.

 

Ian rammed into the glass, with his already bruised shoulder, shattering it and landing him on the floor inside the school.

 

He wasn't dead this time, but he'd knocked himself out.

 

Luke stepped over the broken glass and into the school. He could hear someone shouting in the distance, probably David Madsen. He took a deep breath, concentrating on every second...

 

Suddenly he was still in the school, but the glass wasn't broken and Ian hadn't even found the wrench yet. The confused purple-haired teen looked into the school at Luke, confused.

 

Luke waved meekly and laughed. He pushed open the door as though he was the butler of a fancy mansion, and gestured to the empty, dark hallway. "Welcome to my humble abode."

 

"How..." Ian began. "...freaky time travel shit?"

 

"Correct," Luke said through a chuckle. Ian walked in, his expression slightly cautious as though he thought it was some kind of prank. "Now, explain in detail what we're doing here again? I mean, I love breaking into schools at night as much as the next rebellious teen, but you had a reason for this, right?"

 

"Yeah, totally," Ian said casually, walking down the hall towards the principal's office. "James and Jeff's records. Jeff used to go here, once upon a time, and James still does. If I'm gonna learn anything top-secret about the two of them it's gonna be here."

 

"Oh, okay," Luke said simply. Luckily, the door to the principal's office was unlocked and they slipped inside undetected. Luke and Ian both turned on the flashlights of their phones, and began looking.

 

Luke let his flashlight graze over the room. There were certificates and pictures in elegant frames on the wall, stacks of paperwork on the desk, and uncomfortable looking chairs in the corner. Ian shuffled through items a bookshelf, looking through binders and suspiciously large books for anything remotely incriminating.

 

A few minutes passed, and nothing was found.

 

And then, Ian began searching through a filing cabinet, and found something.

 

"Hey, Luke," he said, not taking his eyes away from the folder in his hand. "Take a look at this."

 

"Yeah?" Luke stood beside Ian and looked over his shoulder at the folders and the filing cabinet.

 

Ian held up the file; paperclipped to the front was a picture of Jimmy Whetzel.

 

Luke ripped the folder out of Ian's hand and opened it. Inside was a document detailing the events of his attempted suicide as well as the viral video that had been taken of him and several printed photos of him, most of which appeared to have been taken without consent.

 

"What the hell is this?" Luke said, setting the folder on the desk behind him and looking at the other folders in the cabinet. There was a file for Caddy, and one for Jeff, and...

 

One for Luke.

 

"What the fuck?" Ian set his flashlight down on top of Jimmy's folder and picked up the Caddy and Jeff folders. Luke took his own folder, and began looking through it. It had similar things inside of it as Jimmy's had: pictures of him he didn't even know were taken, a document explaining his involvement with the day's earlier events regarding Jimmy, one paper with all his grades on it...

 

Ian flipped through the pages of the Jeff folder frantically. One thing that stood out about this folder rather than others was the missing person's poster shoved lazily inside, and a piece of paper that simply read  _ Jeff in the dark room  _ over and over and over in messy black marker.

 

"Jeff in the dark room?" Luke questioned, trying as hard as he could to keep his voice calm for Ian's sake.

 

"Luke, what the  _ fuck  _ is this?" Ian raised his voice suddenly.

 

"Shh," Luke said, putting a finger to his lips. "I don't know, I'm sorry."

 

"Don't you understand what this  _ means _ , Luke?" Ian began, turning towards Luke with wild eyes. "The...the thing with Jimmy possibly being drugged and Jeff's disappearance could be connected, and the principal of Blackwell could know about it. He could be part of a  _ coverup _ , Luke. He might know what happened to Jeff."

 

"We're taking these," Luke said simply, sliding the Jimmy folder out from under Ian's phone and shutting his own folder. Ian took the Caddy folder and Jeff's folder. "For science, y'know?"

 

"Yeah, yeah," Ian said, and Luke noticed his hands shaking. He was clearly upset about this new information, and Luke felt the need to help calm him down somehow—he really hated to see Ian upset. "Let's get out of here."

 

"Um, no," Luke said, smirking. "I'm not wasting all that effort on a few measly folders. Let's do something  _ fun _ ."

 

"Luke—"

 

"Jimmy told me once that the pool is pretty cool looking this time of night," Luke said, ignoring Ian and heading out into the hall. "The moon shines right in the windows and reflects off the water."

 

" _ Luke _ —"

 

"C'mon! It'll be fun!"

 

Ian sighed, giving up, and followed Luke down the hall towards the pool.

 

Their phone flashlights were the only illumination, and the building looked rather ghostly.

 

The smell of chlorine filled the area as they got closer to the pool, and though Luke was smiling, Ian simply seemed nervous. Luke was determined to make Ian smile before the night was over, though. Even if it required time travel.

 

Luke pushed open the heavy doors to the pool, and with the humidity in the room, he could already imagine Ian's hair frizzing up. The moon shone off the water like fairy lights off zircon crystals, lighting up the room with a mysterious glow that felt both terrifying and inviting at the same time.

 

Luke instantly slipped off his shoes and socks.

 

"Hey..." Ian trailed off upon realizing he couldn't argue. Luke took off his hat and set it next to his shoes on the floor. Ian wasn't sure he could deal with this.

 

"Live a little," Luke said, and then he laughed. "I can't believe  _ I'm  _ telling  _ you  _ that."

 

"Yeah, yeah, okay," Ian said reluctantly, taking off his shoes as well. Luke shrugged off his sweatshirt and peeled off his gloves, exposing the skin on his arms to the moonlight. He tried to pretend he didn't notice Ian's casual stare.

 

Luke gripped his tee-shirt at the back of the neck, and pulled it off swiftly over his head. He looked at Ian, who was casually looking anywhere but at him. Luke smiled to himself.  _ I had a gut feeling that pride button wasn't just for show _ , he thought.

 

Luke sat down by the side of the pool, letting his feet dangle under the water. He was still in jeans, but didn't feel the need to take them off, really.

 

Ian sat carefully next to him. Luke smiled.

 

Abruptly, with a noise so loud it echoed across the room, Luke slid down into the pool (splashing Ian in the process). His head went under the water at first, but when he popped back up to the surface he shook the water out of his hair like a dog.

 

"C'mon! The water's nice!" Luke insisted. The corners of Ian's lips twitched slightly, and at this point Luke knew the only thing stopping him from smiling was the teasing he was bound to suffer.

 

"You're just gonna push my head underwater like you did when we were kids," Ian said as an excuse.

 

"Pfft, I never did that," Luke lied. "Hey, really though, I promise I won't. I just wanna see you smile."

 

Ian looked down, his face reddening so much that it was visible even under the dim lighting conditions. Luke swam closer to the edge of the pool and looked up at Ian's face. He was smiling.

 

"Heeeey," Luke said slyly. "I see that."

 

"Nooooo you don't," Ian said, his smile only growing larger.

 

"Yesssss I doooo," Luke teased. He reached up, grabbing Ian's wrist and dragging him towards the water. Ian yelped as he slipped in, suddenly soaked to the bone.

 

" _ FUCK YOU _ !" Ian exclaimed. He splashed Luke with a torrent of pool water and Luke broke into a fit of giggles. "You  _ do  _ realize it's like forty degrees outside."

 

"Your truck's not that far," Luke said. "A little cold never killed anyone."

 

"Um, I'm pretty sure you're wrong there."

 

"Well, it's not gonna kill  _ you _ ," Luke continued, shoving Ian playfully. Ian shoved him back almost reflexively, but stopped abruptly, realizing that, oh shit, he'd totally just touched Luke's bare chest  _ shit... _

 

Ian bared his teeth nervously.

 

"Sorry, this is awkward," Ian said, covering his face with his hands.

 

"Only 'cuz you're  _ making  _ it awkward." Luke weakly splashed Ian again. "Which reminds me, I've been meaning to ask you about the gay pride button you have on your beanie."

 

"Oh, yeah." Ian hopped back up on the ledge of the pool, water dripping in a puddle around him. "I was going to tell you, I just didn't...I wasn't sure how."

 

"So, you're—"

 

"I'm fucking gay, yeah," Ian finished Luke's sentence for him. "Don't make a big deal out of it,  _ please _ . Not that there's anything wrong with it, but I try not to draw attention to myself like Jimmy does."

 

"Were you and Jeff a thing?" Luke asked.

 

"No," Ian said breathily. "He...he had a girlfriend. I don't know where she went after he disappeared—I see her around every now and then but I think she just wants to forget he ever existed. I wish I could do as much but he just won't leave my head."

 

Luke bit his lip, suddenly feeling a pang of jealousy wrap around his chest like an ace bandage. He knew it was crappy of him to have just...vanished like that, after he moved away from Arcadia Bay, but he couldn't help but wish Ian hadn't found a replacement for him. Especially not a replacement that seemed to occupy his thoughts most of the time.

 

_ Thunk. _

 

Luke's thoughts dissipated like smoke. A flashlight was peeking around the corner...

 

The two of them scrambled out of the pool, frantically putting their clothing back on.

 

They laughed about it the whole way home.

 

Luke couldn't even remember falling asleep, but when he woke up, he knew he was in Ian's bed.

 

The whole room smelled like Ian and damp pool water. The gentle noises of shuffling papers and low music being played from a speaker in the corner hit his ears. A beam of sunlight had rested itself squarely on his chest, and he was so comfortable he didn't want to move.

 

His jeans were still damp from last night's adventure, which was the only uncomfortable thing about the current situation.

 

"G'morning," Luke mumbled groggily.

 

"Hey, Sleeping Beauty," Ian replied, his voice equally as tired-sounding. Luke couldn't see where in the room he was from his current position. "Sleep okay?"

 

"Dude, I was out like a light," Luke said, sitting up and glancing around. Ian was sitting on the floor in front of the bed, the folders they'd found in the principal's office last night spread around him. He'd changed into something dry and warm to match the weather. His eyelashes were visible in the sunlight, and at that moment, Luke was sure he could stare at him forever without getting bored. Something about him was...enchanting.

 

"This doesn't make any sense," Ian mumbled as Luke crawled forward on the bed to look at the folders with him. "What does 'Jeff in the dark room' mean? What the hell is the dark room?"

 

"I really wish I knew," Luke said. "You don't happen to have any clothes I can borrow, do you? I'm all...chlorine-y."

 

"I'm sure I've got  _ something  _ that'll fit you," Ian said, too occupied with the folders to look up. "Try the closet."

 

Luke jumped off the bed and began browsing through the closet. All his clothes were similar in style and color, so Luke picked the comfiest thing he could find: a purple pullover hoodie and a pair of black jeans. 

 

"Don't turn around, I'm changing," Luke warned, getting dressed as fast as he could. He grabbed his snapback, which was resting on the nightstand beside Ian's bed, for a finishing touch.

 

He looked down at himself and laughed. Ian's style really didn't suit him.

 

Ian scooped up the folders and shoved them on one of his bookshelves, sandwiched between a textbook and a small cardboard box.

 

"God," Luke said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "I slept in your bed, I'm wearing your clothes...at least take me out to dinner first."

 

"Yeah, why don't you just fucking kiss me right now," Ian mumbled, and Luke knew it had been a joke, but something about the offer was appealing to him.

 

He'd never  _ really  _ thought about Ian like that. Last night, there had been something nagging in the back of his head, something he'd chosen to ignore. But now, in the soft morning sunlight, when everything smelled like him and his sarcastic comments felt more like flirting, and his chapped lips moved a certain sleepy way, the thought was much more prominent.

 

His heart leapt in his chest. He couldn't believe he was about to do this.

 

He leaned forward and pressed his lips gently to Ian's. Ian pulled away almost immediately, his face unreadable, his cheeks airbrushed with red.

 

Luke laughed. "You asked for it."

 

"Yeah, but I didn't think...never mind." Ian turned and left the room. Luke followed.

 

Luke shot a passing greeting in Joyce's direction when they passed the kitchen. The two of them boarded Ian's old truck, Ian having offered to take Luke back to Blackwell.

 

The tension between them was now so thick it was palpable. Luke felt as though he could grab a fistfull of the air and mold it like clay.

 

"Hey, wait!" Ian said suddenly. "Dark rooms are a photography thing, right?"

 

"Maybe?" Luke shrugged.

 

"There's a photography class at Blackwell, right? Who teaches it?"

 

"Uh, I think he's called Mister Jefferson," Luke replied. "Jimmy used to swoon over him. I could ask him about dark rooms, if you want."

 

"Yeah, that would be great," Ian said. "Let me know what the results are."

 

The pickup pulled into Blackwell's parking lot, and Luke hopped out of the car. "I'll be sure to do that. See you."

 

"Yeah. See you."

 

Luke walked towards his dorm, feeling sort of out of place in Ian's clothes. The hoodie was comfortable, but the jeans were tighter and rested lower on his hips than he preferred. He hoped he didn't get any questions, seeing as he hadn't slept in his own room last night and he clearly wasn't wearing clothes that belonged to him.

 

The dorm felt much colder than Ian's room had.

 

Luke slid into his desk chair, checking his school email boredly. His mind kept wandering back to Ian, and how different he was since his dad's death. It even seemed as though he talked to his mom less—something which likely broke her heart.

 

Luke wished he could go back in time more than a few minutes. He'd stop Ian's dad from dying, and fix everything.

 

His mouse hovered over his old music folder without him even thinking about it. He put his headphones over his ears. He clicked on a specific song, a song he'd written when he was younger and Ian wasn't so depressed.

 

Each beat struck his head like a hammer.

 

He blinked, and suddenly he was in Ian's house again.

 

Everything smelled like maple syrup. Luke sat on the couch, his old notebook in front of him, with half-written lyrics to the song he'd been listening to only seconds ago.

 

He felt...shorter.

 

"Luke!" Ian's voice hit his ears. Ian's  _ old  _ voice. Ian's voice as Luke remembered it before he moved away from Arcadia Bay. "Are you gonna help us or are you gonna just sit there?"

 

"H-hang on," Luke stuttered. All of this was familiar.

 

This was the day Ian's dad died in a car wreck.

 

He had to stop it from happening.

 

" _ LUKE _ !" Ian yelled.

 

"Coming!" Luke exclaimed, acting as close to his old self as he could. He realized abruptly that he wasn't wearing a snapback, which was mildly disturbing.

 

Ian and his bio-dad, William, were dropping spoonfuls of pancake batter onto a griddle. Ian looked so happy.

 

"What do you want me to—" Luke began to ask, but he stopped when the phone rang.

 

"Hold that thought," William said, walking out into the hall to answer the phone. Luke listened to the muffled half-conversation. "Hey, honey!...sure, I can pick you up...I'll be there in a jiffy. Don't worry, the boys'll be fine..."

 

_ The boys will  _ not  _ be fine _ , Luke thought.

 

"Sorry, kids," William said, keys jangling in his hands. "Gotta pick up Ian's mom from the store. We'll put this on hold 'till I get back, alright? Don't burn yourselves!"

 

"Wait!" Luke exclaimed. He knew he had to stop William from getting into that car, but how?

 

Taxies, walking, busses...

 

"Something up, sport?" William asked.

 

"We've been learning about global warming in school!" Luke exclaimed. "It's better for the environment if you take public transportation. Take the bus, maybe? Please? For the earth?"

 

William sighed, and rolled his eyes. "I'm sure the earth'll be fine if I just take a short trip to the store."

 

"No!" Luke exclaimed, a little too quickly. "If you say that, then everyone will say that, and then no one will take the bus and the earth will die!"

 

"Alright, fine, just for you." William ruffled Luke's hair and set his car keys down next to the phone. Luke smiled so big he felt like his cheeks might rip apart.

 

The door shut with a soft  _ thunk _ . Ian crossed his arms. "Great, now we have to wait even  _ longer  _ for pancakes."

 

"But we're saving the earth," Luke said matter-of-factly. "Riiiight, Ian?"

 

"Go back to writing your shitty poetry."

 

"That's a buck for the swear jar," Luke said. "Also, it's not poetry. It's music."

 

He blinked. Suddenly, he was his normal height again, and he was outside, and the air smelled like autumn leaves.

 

He was leaning against a car. Jimmy stood next to him, focused on some kind of mobile game on his phone. Luke looked down at his clothes; they were his own, not Ian's.

 

"Are you going to the Vortex Club party this weekend?" Jimmy asked, still focused on his game.

 

"No, why would I?" Luke asked, perplexed. Why was Jimmy  _ here _ ? Wasn't he supposed to be in the hospital?

 

"Because you go to all of their parties?" Jimmy said. "The fuck's gotten into you? You look like you just saw a ghost or something."

 

"I...uh..."  _ Since when do I go to Vortex Club parties?  _ "...I just remembered somewhere I have to be. Sorry."

 

Luke dashed away from the parking lot. He didn't care how long he'd have to walk, he had to get to Ian's house. He had to make sure everything was still okay.

 

He ran the whole way there. Ian's truck wasn't parked in the driveway; instead it was just William's car.  _ His car's fine. That's a good sign, right? _

 

He rapped his knuckles on the door. Joyce answered, and tears almost immediately filled her eyes. Luke braced himself for the worst.  _ What the hell happened to Ian? _

 

"Luke," Joyce said. "I haven't seen you in years."

 

"Yeah, it's nice to see you," Luke tried to sound as genuine and as not-frantic as possible, but his heart was beating so hard he was afraid Joyce could hear it. "Is Ian around? I really want to see him."

 

"Oh, honey," Joyce said. "I'm sorry, you didn't know...but no, Ian's not around."

 

"What happened to him?" It felt like something was caught in the back of Luke's throat. By stopping William's death, had he accidentally caused Ian's?

 

"He...well..." Joyce began, staring at the ground. "...a lot happened to him after you left, Luke. If I tell you, you might not think the same about him."

 

"Just tell me," Luke said sternly.

 

"Luke..." Joyce didn't want to say it. "...he's in prison."

 

Luke inhaled sharply. Needless to say, that wasn't what he'd expected, but it still wasn't good by any means. "Tell me what happened."

 

Luke followed Joyce into the house. It smelled the same, but it felt vacant. William sat on a chair in the living room, reading the newspaper. It would have been nice to see, but Luke was too focused on Ian to care at the moment.

 

"Will!" Joyce called. "You'll never believe who stopped by."

 

Hugs were exchanged, introductions re-done. Luke sat on the couch next to Joyce and she began to explain.

 

"A few years after you left the Bay, just after Ian turned eighteen, he was in a car crash. It wasn't too horrible; no one died and Ian didn't get any visible scars. He did, however, suffer brain damage, and that can change a person a whole lot, y'know.

 

"He was such a shy kid before the accident. But then, after it happened, he was suddenly outgoing like I'd never seen. He made friends, he went to school every day, his grades went up. But he was depressed, and I was worried about him. I should have done something sooner. And then I got the call.

 

"It was about six o'clock. I was making dinner, waiting for Ian to come home from a friend's house. The phone rang, I picked it up, and the person on the other side told me that my son had been arrested for assault and attempted murder. Ian's side of the story was that the kid pissed him off and that was it, no other reason. Obviously, he didn't win the court case, and now he's been sentenced to ten years in jail. I'm so sorry, Luke."

 

Luke clenched his fists so hard he nearly drew blood. This was  _ his  _ fault, not Ian's.  _ Luke  _ was the one who decided to screw with time.

 

"We could take you to visit him," William suggested. "If you wanted."

 

Did Luke really want that?

 

"That'd be great. Thanks." 

 

Apparently he did, because the words left his mouth before he even knew they were on his tongue.

 

"It's too late tonight," William explained, "But I'd be happy to take you in the morning."

 

The morning couldn't come quick enough. Luke sat nervously in the front seat of William's car, his leg bouncing with energy like a chihuahua's. William was solemn as he drove.

 

"I should warn you," William said, "of several things, actually. First of all, he probably won't be happy to see you."

 

"That's my fault," Luke said, "for not staying in touch."

 

"Don't blame yourself, we all make mistakes," William continued. "Second of all, the car crash didn't  _ just  _ change him from being introverted to extroverted; he has a bit of a stutter, and forgets words sometimes. Don't finish his sentences for him even it seems like he's struggling, he'll get angry. Also, since he's in there for assault, there'll be a lot of guards around and touching will be minimal if at all. Don't be too nervous, though."

 

"Don't be nervous?" Luke asked. "Are you serious? How could I  _ not  _ be?"

 

William laughed. "I know. I was nervous the first few times I visited."

 

William took care of everything. They went through metal detectors and then were directed into a room with a single, white table and three chairs, all of which looked stiff and uncomfortable. One guard was stationed at each door, and another stood against the wall. Luke rocked on his heels nervously. William sat at one of the chairs, visibly more relaxed than Luke.

 

The door on the far side of the room opened. A fourth guard roughly lead Ian in.

 

His hair was messy, shorter than Luke expected. It wasn't purple. He had rough facial hair. He looked more bored than anything; until he laid his eyes on Luke.

 

"L-Luke?" Ian asked. "The hell are you d-doing here?"

 

"Ian," Luke said, rushing forward and trapping Ian in a hug. "I'm so sorry I didn't write, or call, or anything I just..."

 

A pair of arms pulled them apart. Luke felt tears coming to the back of his eyes; but he blinked rapidly to get rid of them.

 

"You didn't an-answer my question," Ian said. He was directed by the guard to sit in a chair, and Luke did the same, instinctively. "Wh-what the  _ HELL  _ are you doing h-here?"

 

"I'm going to Blackwell this year," Luke explained calmly. "I went to your house because I missed you only to find out you're...here."

 

Ian slammed his forehead down on the table and groaned. "God dammit. H-how much do you...uh...know?"

 

"Well, I know what you're in for," Luke began, "and I know about the crash. Is there anything else I  _ should  _ know?"

 

"J-just that I want-t-t-to fucking k-kill myself," Ian said, visibly more tense than he had been a moment ago. "And n-no one  _ f-fucking c-cares _ ."

 

"That's not true," William piped up.

 

"Ex-excuse me, d-do you live h-here?" Ian snapped, jerking up suddenly.

 

"Hey, take it down a notch," one of the guards said.

 

Ian shot a terrifying glance towards the guard, but complied.

 

"How long do you have left?" Luke asked quietly. "I'll wait for you."

 

"Too l-long," Ian said blandly. "I'm g-gonna die b-before I...before I get out. If I can't f-find a way to kill my-myself I'll find someone else to d-do it for me."

 

Luke shut his eyes tightly. He didn't want to hear this, he didn't want to be here. The music started playing in his head before he realized what was happening.

 

He opened his eyes and he was sitting on the couch in Ian's house, the smell of pancakes wafting through the air.

 

He had to let William die, as much as it pained him.

 

It was better than seeing Ian like that ever again.

 

He went through the scene again, as he had before, but he let William go this time.

 

Suddenly he blinked, and Ian's face was in front of him, purple hair and all, an unreadable expression plastered to his face, his cheeks painted with red. He was back; back to right after he'd kissed Ian, and god, after what he'd been through, he really wanted to do it again.

 

"I didn't think you'd actually..." Ian trailed off. His voice was normal. He was fine. Everything was fine. Luke was wearing his clothes and standing in his room after spending the night with him. And all he knew at that moment was that he loved Ian more than anything.

 

Frantically, messily, he grabbed Ian's face and pulled him into another kiss. Ian didn't reject it this time. Ian's hands rested on Luke's hips and Luke tangled his fingers in Ian's perfect, beautiful purple hair. He tasted like how his room smelled and like the morning. His lips were chapped and rough and moved against Luke's like they were made to fit together.

 

"Ian," Luke said, through the kiss and against Ian's lips. "You're perfect. I love you just the way you are. Never change. Please."

 

"I feel like I'm missing something," Ian pulled away, a smirk playing on his lips. "Did you go back in time or some shit?"

 

"I really, really don't want to talk about it," Luke said. "But yes. I went back in time  _ or some shit _ ."

 

"Alright, I won't ask," Ian said. "Need a ride back to Blackwell?"

 

Luke had never accepted an offer faster.


	4. Episode 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They finally find out where Jeff went, and a storm is on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so fucking sorry like actually

Luke's feet clicked on the floor of the hallway as he headed to Mark Jefferson's classroom. He had next to no experience with photography, and though he knew dark rooms were related, he didn't know how or why or what they were.

 

The door to the classroom was open, despite how early it was. Luke peered around the doorframe and saw Mark Jefferson, grading homework with a big red marker.

 

Luke cleared his throat. "Uh, excuse me?"

 

The teacher made a noise in the back of his throat, before raising his head to look at the newcomer. "Yes? Can I help you?"

 

Luke nodded, walking in. "Yeah, you can. You're Mister Jefferson, right? I'm Luke."

 

They shook hands. Mister Jefferson's grip was firm and trustworthy. "That'd be me. Nice to meet you, Luke. Got any interest in photography?"

 

"Not really," Luke said truthfully. "But I have a friend who is, and he mentioned a thing called a  _ dark room _ , and I figured I'd ask you about it. What  _ is  _ a 'dark room', exactly? Like, I googled it but I'm still not sure I understand."

 

"Well, you came to the right person!" Mister Jefferson laughed. "Darkrooms are used mainly to develop film and make prints. Film's very light-sensitive, you see, so the room has to be dark in order to keep it high-quality. If any light leaks into the darkroom while film is being developed, it'll be compromised and you'll likely have to take new pictures and start completely over."

 

"Oh, okay," Luke said.  _ What does that have to do with Jeff? Jeff in the dark room? What?  _ "Thanks! Hey, is there a darkroom on campus or near here at all?"

 

"There is," Mister Jefferson said, turning back to his work. "I'm sure your friend could show you where it is. Now, shouldn't you be off to class?"

 

"Yeah, yeah," Luke said, backing out of the room. "Thanks again!"

 

He walked down the hall to his first class, trying to piece together the puzzle in his head.  _ Jeff in the dark room _ . Darkrooms were for developing film. There was a darkroom somewhere near Blackwell. Luke didn't actually have any way to find out where it was because he lied about having a friend who was into photography, he didn't actually know anyone in Mark Jefferson's class, and...

 

...Hang on, was that Jimmy?

 

"Yo!" Luke yelled, breaking into a sprint across the hallway. He shoved past people, bumping into shoulders without apologizing. "Jimmy!"

 

The sweater-clad teen turned at the sudden noise, and his eyes widened when Luke captured him in a tight embrace. "Hello," Jimmy said casually.

 

"You're back, oh my god," Luke said. "Are you okay? What happened, exactly? How—"

 

"Whoa, one thing at a time," Jimmy said, pulling away from the hug. "I feel like shit, for starters. I'm on a new medication and it's got fucking horrible side effects."

 

"Aw, man, that sucks," Luke said. "Oh! That reminds me. I found some new information that could help us find who drugged you."

 

"What? Really?" Jimmy spoke in a hushed tone, leaning closer to Luke.

 

"Yeah," Luke began, "you know those missing persons' posters around campus? Jeff Fabre's disappearance is likely related to your situation."

 

"How'd you figure that out?"

 

"Uh, illegally," Luke said sheepishly. "If the principal asks, about  _ anything _ , don't point him to me. Or Ian. Uh, I should get to class now."

 

"Yeah, me too," Jimmy said, beginning to walk away.

 

"It was good to see you!" Luke exclaimed as he walked. "I missed you!"

 

"I was gone for  _ one day _ , Luke!"

 

"I still missed you!" Luke exclaimed. "Uh, bye!"

 

As Luke walked towards his first class, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

 

**Ian**

_ 8:14 AM _

hang on what day is it

 

**You**

_ 8:14 AM _

it's Friday

 

**Ian**

_ 8:14 AM _

shit ok

 

**Ian**

_ 8:15 AM _

the vortex club end of the world party is tonight. make sure jimmy doesnt go

 

**You**

_ 8:15 AM _

I'm sure he won't, but I'll double check if you really want me to

 

Luke shoved his phone in his pocket, intending to ask Jimmy about the party at lunch later that day. He'd nearly gotten to the classroom when his phone buzzed again.

 

**Ian**

_ 8:17 AM _

YOU ARENT ALLOWED TO GO EITHER

 

**You**

_ 8:17 AM _

you're not my mom. you can't tell me what to do!!

 

**You**

_ 8:17 AM _

my mom's in seattle. she can't really tell me what to do either

 

**You**

_ 8:17 AM _

PLUS IM 18 NOW DOESNT MATTER I CAN DO WHAT I WANT

 

**Ian**

_ 8:18 AM _

you still can't legally drink you nerd

 

**Ian**

_ 8:18 AM _

but really im serious dont go to the vortex club party. those guys are shady as fuck, and i dont want you to end up like jimmy ok? also stay inside i heard a crazy storm is gonna hit tonight

 

Luke froze suddenly, right in the doorway of the classroom.

 

Storm? Tonight?

 

The images from his visions flooded; the electrified vortex, looming over the town like a cat about to pounce on a spider, the rain pelting his back like chunks of cold hail, his feet sinking into the mud almost like it was quicksand. If that storm was going to hit  _ tonight _ ...

 

...they had to solve this mystery  _ now.  _ To hell with class, they'd be lucky if the school was still intact tomorrow morning. They had to gather as much evidence as they could  _ right now _ , or it'd be destroyed in the storm and any hope they had of figuring out where Jeff went and who drugged Jimmy would be destroyed with it.

 

He turned around and speed-walked back down the hallway, pulling out his phone to message Ian about the situation.

 

**You**

_ 8:20 AM _

ian where are you right now

 

**Ian**

_ 8:20 AM _

uh, at my house?

 

**You**

_ 8:20 AM _

get over here right now. like to blackwell.

 

**Ian**

_ 8:21 AM _

is something wrong?

 

**You**

_ 8:21 AM _

yes, yes something is wrong. just get here and ill explain. be prepared to do some breaking and entering

 

**Ian**

_ 8:21 AM _

luke youre scaring me

 

**You**

_ 8:22 AM _

I'll meet you in the parking lot, cool?

 

He didn't wait for a text back; he ran out the front doors of the building and towards the lot, hoping not to be seen by teachers or Jimmy or Wallid or anyone who would slow him down. The sky was already cloudy, he realized. His heart leapt into his throat.

 

His feet slammed against the concrete, sending jolts up from the balls of his feet to his spine. He could feel the pavement through the bottoms of his shoes, cold, rough, and unforgiving.

 

He stood on a patch of dry, yellowing grass near the parking lot, rocking on his heels anxiously while he waited for Ian to show. Eventually, the grey pickup pulled into the parking lot, a worried-looking Ian sitting in the driver's seat. He hopped out of the car and immediately ran to Luke.

 

"I literally just dropped you off here like two hours ago," Ian said, almost angry in demeanor. "What the  _ hell  _ did you manage to get yourself into?"

 

"Nothing, nothing," Luke said, holding his hands out defensively. "There's...there's something else I haven't told you, other than the time travel crap. When I blacked out in the junkyard—and by the lighthouse—I was having a vision. Of a storm."

 

"Luke—"

 

"And I don't really know why I didn't tell you. Didn't seem noteworthy, I guess. But if the storm in my visions was the same storm that's coming tonight,  _ everything's  _ gonna get destroyed. The school, your house, the diner,  _ everything _ , which would include any and all chances we have to figure out where Jeff went and who drugged Jimmy."

 

"Calm down," Ian said gently. "The texts you sent made it seem like you had some kind of plan. Care to explain?"

 

"Yeah, yeah," Luke said through quick breaths. His hands were violently shaking, and Ian held them tightly, trying to calm him down. Luke swallowed. "Caddy's clearly involved in this, right? And he's in class right now. So we could break into his dorm and look for clues."

 

"Good idea," Ian said, rubbing the back of Luke's hands with his thumbs. "But first you need to calm down, okay?"

 

Luke nodded, burying his face in the fabric of Ian's shirt and breathing in his scent deeply. He focused on his heartbeat, sure that Ian could hear it, pounding against his ribcage with all the ferocity of the electric vortex from his visions.

 

His heartbeat slowed, his breathing returned to normal, and his hands stopped shaking. Ian planted a gentle kiss on his forehead.

 

"You good?" Ian asked.

 

"Yeah," Luke answered. He slid his hand into Ian's, intertwining their fingers and sending warmth through his veins. "Let's go."

 

They walked towards the dorms, their hands sandwiched between their thighs. Luke was glad to have him so close; it was grounding, a reminder that  _ this  _ was the real Ian, the real timeline, where everything was (kinda) fine.

 

"How are you at picking locks?" Luke asked.

 

"Alright," Ian answered. "I'm sure I'll be able to get James' door open, though. If I can't pick the lock, then I'll  _ break  _ the lock."

 

Luke rolled his eyes. "Okay. Whatever."

 

They reached the dorms. The whiteboard on the front of Caddy's door read  _ jumping off the roof is a good idea, why didn't i think of it first  _ and Luke debated erasing it.

 

Ian let go of Luke's hand, and Luke almost wanted to reach out and grab it again, but he didn't. Ian pulled his keychain out of his pocket and started fiddling with the lock.

 

Luke stared at Ian as he worked; the soft clicks from the lock being the only noise. Ian's violet hair fell in his eyes, casting them in shadow.

 

_ Plink _ . The doorknob twisted open almost effortlessly, and Ian opened the door slowly, cautiously. The room was messy, not quite as messy as Luke's, though. Ian immediately began searching.

 

The room was fairly inconspicuous. You'd never know that the owner of the room had a gun in his possession, or the intent to kill, or involvement in a missing persons' case. Neither Ian nor Luke found anything interesting at first, but this was to be expected; anything incriminating would be hidden, not in plain sight.

 

As Ian shuffled through folders on Caddy's computer, Luke overturned couch cushions, as well as looking under and behind the piece of furniture.

 

A small, grey, box-shaped object was on the floor behind the couch. Luke reached for it, barely able to snatch it up with the tips of his fingers. It was a phone, quite an old model, which required a passcode and wasn't connected to any form of wifi or phone service.

 

"Yo," Luke said, holding out the phone. "I found something."

 

"Yeah?" Ian said. "Good, because all I found on his computer is porn."

 

Luke laughed. "Yeah, okay, don't watch it. You don't happen to know how to crack the passcode of a phone, do you?"

 

"Jeff did," Ian said, and Luke frowned subconsciously at the mention of his name. "No matter how many times I changed the lock on my phone he'd always find a way to get in. He took so many goddamn selfies."

 

Luke realized with a pang of jealousy that Ian probably still had those selfies on his camera roll, and that he probably looked at them from time to time.

 

"But you don't know how to do it?" Luke asked. "Cause we really need to get into this phone. I bet there's some crazy information in here."

 

"I don't, no," Ian said. "What about Jimmy or Wallid? 'Spose either of them know?"

 

"I mean, we could ask, but they're in class right now," Luke said. "Hang on, I'll text them."

 

Luke pulled out his phone and typed a message to Jimmy first.

 

**You**

_ 8:56 AM _

you don't happen to know how to hack into a phone with a passcode do you

 

He sent the same message to Wallid soon after. Jimmy responded first, though.

 

**Jim-Jam**

_ 8:57 AM _

.........why

 

**You**

_ 8:57 AM _

uh, no reason, just, do you?

 

And then Wallid's response came:

 

**Meme Man**

_ 8:58 AM _

i do actually but why

 

**You**

_ 8:59 AM _

ok, uh, i hate to ask this, but is there any way you can get out of class rn?

 

**Meme Man**

_ 8:59 AM _

can you wait 15 mins until passing time

 

**You**

_ 8:59 AM _

yeah i guess

 

**You**

_ 9:00 AM _

meet me in my room?

 

**Meme Man**

_ 9:00 AM _

yep cool sure. but you have some explaining to do, mister

 

Luke looked up from his phone at Ian. "We're lucky. Wallid said he can hack into it. He's gonna meet us in my room in fifteen minutes or so."

 

"Okay, sick," Ian said, swiftly shutting down the computer and returning the desk to its default state. Luke's phone buzzed again.

 

**Jim-Jam**

_ 9:01 AM _

no i dont but like seriously what do you need im curious

 

**You**

_ 9:01 _

too complicated to tell you over text. if you really wanna know meet me in my room in 15 mins

 

**Jim-Jam**

_ 9:02 _

okay.......?

 

"Jimmy's coming too, I think," Luke said, shoving his phone back in his pocket. "It's gonna be a party."

 

"Whatever." Ian rolled his eyes and strutted out of the room. Luke followed, gently shutting the door behind them.

 

"Well, we have fifteen minutes to kill," Ian said, heading to Luke's room. Luke unlocked the door and they stepped inside, Luke immediately flopping down on the bed. "What do you wanna do?"

 

"You still love him, don't you?"

 

Luke covered his mouth with his hand. He hadn't meant to say that out loud. He'd been thinking about it—about Jeff and how Ian just couldn't help but talk about him at any given chance—and it just slipped out like his lips were made of ice.

 

"Sorry, I didn't mean to say that out loud," Luke apologized. Ian exhaled deeply, sitting down on the bed next to Luke.

 

The room was thrown into a delicate silence, sharp like glass and easy to break or crack. Luke dared not move, for fear that Ian would say something he didn't want to hear.

 

"...I mean, you're right," Ian said, shattering the atmosphere. "I do."

 

"Oh," Luke said lowly.  _ But what about me?  _ He wanted to say, but he knew that was selfish. Sure, they'd kissed twice. Sure, they'd held hands on the way here. But a large portion of the physical contact had been initiated by Luke, and there hadn't really been any verbal affirmation regarding their relationship—and part of him knew that it was because of Jeff. If they found him, and if he was still alive, Luke would likely become the third wheel to a nonexistent relationship.

 

"It's just motivation, I guess," Ian continued. "I know it'd never work. He's just not into me. But still, if I stopped loving him, I'm worried I'd stop trying to look for him."

 

"We—" Luke began, but he was cut off by a knock on the door. He scrambled to answer it, desperate for a distraction from this uncomfortable conversation.

 

Standing there was Wallid, hands in his pockets, bag slung over his shoulder. "I heard you need a locksmith," he remarked.

 

"You heard right," Luke said through a laugh. He gestured for Wallid to step inside, which he did, and Luke shut the door behind him.

 

Ian, who was now in possession of Caddy's phone, handed it to Wallid with more or less a tired demeanor. "Do your best."

 

Wallid immediately went to work. "Who's phone is this, by the way, and why aren't you in class?"

 

"Not important, not important," Ian answered. "Just do your thing, my guy."

 

Wallid shot him a glance over his glasses, but didn't say anything in response.

 

A few minutes passed. Luke nearly jumped out of his skin when he heard some shuffling outside the door, but it was likely just the janitor.

 

"Done," Wallid said. "Have fun with...whatever it is you're doing."

 

He handed Ian the phone. Ian began to scroll—

 

_ POUND POUND POUND _

 

Someone was pounding on the door. Everyone in the room exchanged glances with each other.

 

Luke slowly put his hand on the cold metal doorknob, and twisted it carefully until the door opened. Almost immediately, Caddy stormed into the room, rage in his eyes.

 

" _ Who was in my room _ ?!" He yelled. "The door was unlocked, and some things were misplaced, and I heard voices in here."

 

"SHIT," Ian exclaimed, covering his face with his hands. The phone was now nowhere to be seen, presumably in his pocket or under the bedspread or somewhere equally as secure. "I knew I forgot something."

 

"YOU," Caddy walked further into the room, pushing past Wallid and Luke, pointing in Ian's direction. "It was  _ you _ , wasn't it? Looking for more evidence that your boyfriend's alive, huh? And I bet you didn't find anything, because  _ I don't know anything _ !"

 

"Hey," Ian held his hands up defensively. "I wasn't in your fucking room, okay?"

 

Luke had to bite his lip to refrain from laughing out loud.

 

Ian stood up, walking towards Caddy, and that was when Luke knew he'd have to prepare to rewind time, because this was about to turn messy.

 

"Can you prove it?" Caddy said.

 

"Can  _ you  _ prove it?" Ian retaliated, leaning forward and causing Caddy to back up towards the door. "I wasn't in your room, Jeff was  _ never  _ my boyfriend, and I  _ highly doubt  _ you don't know anything about all this, James. In fact, if I didn't know better, I'd say you were  _ involved _ ."

 

Caddy reached towards his back pocket. Luke tensed.

 

"Say that again," Caddy threatened.

 

"I wasn't in your—"

 

"That last part," Caddy specified. "Say that last part again, I dare you."

 

"If I didn't know better," Ian began, the two of them walking out into the hallway. Luke stood in the doorway, observing, and Wallid looked over his shoulder. "I'd say you were involved."

 

Caddy pulled the gun, pointing it right at Ian's neck. Luke held his breath, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins.

 

Ian flinched away. "You don't have the guts."

 

_ I'M SORRY ARE YOU FORGETTING?  _ Luke thought.  _ YOU ALREADY DIED ONCE AT HIS HAND YOU IDIOT. DON'T TEMPT HIM. _

 

"Is that a challenge?" Caddy raised his eyebrows.

 

"Perhaps." Ian visibly tensed, and Luke knew what was coming next.

 

_ BANG _ . A gunshot rang in Luke's ears, as well as a scream from Wallid, and he didn't have a chance to process what had happened before he rewound time.

 

"You don't have the guts," Ian said.

 

"Hey," Luke butted in. Both Ian and Caddy glanced at him.

 

"Did you have blood on your shirt before?" Caddy asked, lowering the gun. Ian cocked an eyebrow, obviously knowing  _ some  _ kind of time shenanigans had gone down.

 

"Not important," Luke said. "Just don't kill him, okay?"

 

"And why shouldn't I? He'll be with his boyfriend in Hell."

 

Ian looked like he was about to say something, but Luke cut him off. "You keep saying you don't know anything about Jeff's disappearance, but you  _ also  _ keep implying that he's dead. How do you know that?"

 

"I, uh..." Caddy stuttered, his eyes going wide. "...he's been gone for six months, there's no way he's alive." 

 

"He could just be in fucking Vegas or something," Ian said. Caddy rubbed the bridge of his nose impatiently.

 

"Whatever. I—"

 

"Hey! Guys!" A new voice broke into the hallway. It was Jimmy, stumbling onto the scene with curious eyes and cheeks red from the cold fall air. "Um. Am I...intruding?"

 

Ian said "no" at the same time as Caddy said "yes".

 

"...anyway," Jimmy said, looking confused. "What's this about hacking into a phone?"

 

Caddy's head whipped around, and he met Ian's eyes. Luke could almost see the electricity in the air. "What phone would that be, Moosey?"

 

Ian hunched his shoulders. "No phone. I don't know what he's talking about."

 

"I forgot my passcode," Luke explained quickly.

 

"Your phone doesn't  _ have  _ a passcode," Jimmy said. Luke mentally slapped himself.  _ Way to go, Jimmy _ .

 

" _ What phone, then _ ?" Caddy turned towards Luke this time. Luke shrugged.

 

Caddy shoved the gun back in his pocket and stormed off to his dorm room, past a confused Jimmy and a terrified looking janitor. The group followed, careful to stay in the doorway and not go any further.

 

Caddy was looking behind the couch for something. Something that wasn't there.

 

"Where is it?" He snapped, looking under the couch cushions and under the couch and around it. "WHERE IS IT?"

 

"I don't fucking know," Ian said.

 

"Oh, but you  _ do _ ," Caddy said, waving the gun around once again. "Who else would've taken it? The fucking janitor? A little elf?"

 

"I think the elf theory is pretty accurate," Ian said snarkily. Without missing a beat, Caddy smacked Ian in the face with the barrel of his gun.

 

Luke felt like he was frozen, as though if he did anything he'd get attacked as well.

 

Ian doubled over, holding a hand over his nose and mouth.

 

Jimmy was ultimately the one who acted; he punched Caddy in the jaw, who fell to the ground but managed to point his gun at Jimmy's head. Jimmy kicked the gun out of his hand, and stepped on his wrist with a sound that was both terrifying and satisfying simultaneously.

 

Jimmy ran. Wallid followed. Luke grabbed the hand Ian wasn't using to cover his face and pulled him towards the exit of the dorms. Caddy stayed put.

 

The next thing Luke knew, he was sitting on the bed of Ian's truck, dabbing blood onto an already stained sleeve. His lip had been split in a way that would likely need stitches to fully heal, and his nose looked broken, but Luke couldn't really tell if his nose was also bleeding or if all the blood was from his lip. Ian clutched Luke's hand tightly, flinching every time the fabric made contact with the wound.

 

"You're an idiot," Luke said. "You  _ know  _ he's killed you before. In fact, he  _ did  _ shoot you this time, but I managed to rewind. Literally what were you thinking, tempting him like that?"

 

"Why..." Ian tried to speak, but deemed it to be too difficult with his current injuries. He shut his eyes so tightly it left creases in his eyelids.

 

"Don't ever do something like that again," Luke continued. "I'm gonna let go of your hand and look through the phone for clues, okay? If you need something to hold onto use my shirt or something."

 

Ian nodded. Luke kept his sleeve held to Ian's face as he scrolled through Caddy's phone, searching for anything. It seemed pretty inconspicuous at first glance; normal apps and games, a default wallpaper. He opened the notes application. There was one note, and in it was an address, nothing more.

 

"Yo, found something," Luke said. "It's an address. We're going there, but I'm driving. You...be quiet and try not to move too much. You've gotta let it scab over."

 

Ian couldn't really do anything but nod. Luke pulled his sleeve away and hopped out of the truck bed, heading towards the driver's seat. Ian slid in the passenger's side, a hand over his nose and mouth, his eyes somewhat glassy.

 

"Keys," Luke demanded. Ian handed him his moose figurine keychain, and Luke started the car. "I wish I could make you feel better."

 

Ian nodded, for the third time. Luke pulled the pickup out of Blackwell's parking lot and started driving towards the address, the both of them sitting in tense silence. Not tense because of previous conversations or awkwardness, but tense because they both knew of the oncoming storm, and how close everything was to ending. The Jeff case, the Jimmy case, maybe even their lives. It was a solemn silence.

 

The address was a little ways out, almost to the edge of Arcadia Bay. By the time they reached it, Ian had removed his hand from his mouth and his lip had scabbed over enough to stop the blood from flowing down his face. His nose was still painfully crooked, and Luke could only imagine the octave Joyce's voice would hit as soon as she saw him.

 

The address had lead them to an abandoned-looking barn on a dirt road. Ian didn't look impressed.

 

"You're sure we're in the right place?" He said, sounding somewhat like there was food in his mouth.

 

"Yeah, this is the address," Luke confirmed. "I mean, it's an abandoned barn. We're solving a mystery, right? What's more mysterious than this?"

 

Ian seemed unconvinced. They got out of the truck and walked towards the barn, brown oak and maple leaves crunching under their shoes.

 

The place was so worn down they didn't even need to open the doors to enter; a hole in the side of the wall sufficed. It was exactly as Luke had expected it to look. Worn down, smelling like rotting straw and musty wood. The only thing out of place were a few crates in the corner that seemed newer than everything else.

 

Luke wandered over to them and shoved them around. Underneath was a large trapdoor, likely to some kind of storm cellar.

 

"Ian," Luke said, gesturing for Ian to join him. He opened the trapdoor, which was surprisingly easy; it'd clearly been opened recently. Underneath was a staircase leading into a hall, stretching into darkness. Luke turned on his phone's flashlight and the two descended the staircase.

 

It smelled fresher down there, like printer paper and new concrete. The hallway stretched directly into a room, without another door or anything.

 

Luke felt along the wall for a lightswitch, and squinted against the brightness when the lights turned on. The room was a photography studio, with expensive-looking equipment, an area designated for taking photos, and bookshelves lined with binders, all labelled in the same handwriting.

 

Luke stared at the room in awe. Ian immediately went to look at the binders on the shelves.

 

He pulled one out and looked frantically through it, the grimace on his face enough to re-open his cut.

 

"What's wrong?" Luke galloped over to Ian and looked over his shoulder at the binder. It was pictures. Pictures of Jeff.

 

Luke looked at the labels on the other binders.  _ Kate, Max, Rachel, Jimmy, Victoria, Luke... _

 

What the hell was this?

 

"L-Luke," Ian stuttered, pointing at one of the Jeff pictures. This was one of two pictures in which he hadn't been photographed in the studio—instead, it was taken in the junkyard, and Jeff didn't look...conscious.

 

In fact, he barely looked alive at all.

 

"Luke I know where that is," Ian said, visibly shaking. He dropped the binder and it landed on the floor with a loud  _ fwap _ . "Luke. I...I thought...I saw evidence of...of a..."

 

"Hey," Luke said softly, gripping Ian's shoulders. "What? What did you see?"

 

"I didn't...I didn't want to believe it..." Ian continued. "It's in the junkyard, kind of near where we were yesterday, y'know? And...there's this one spot...about six months ago before I really noticed Jeff was gone. It...it looked like it could have been...a..."

 

"A what?"

 

"...a body dump, Luke. And then...and then he went missing and I didn't even...I..."

 

"Ian, it's okay—" Luke began, but Ian ran out of the room before Luke had the chance to finish. Luke followed, into the car, in the passenger's side. Ian didn't even seem to care that he was bleeding, and that the blood was running down his chin and dripping onto his shirt and the steering wheel. He didn't seem to care that he was going far above the speed limit, either. He was blinded by emotions.

 

They reached the junkyard. Ian parked recklessly and hopped out of the truck before he'd even taken the key out of the ignition. Luke followed, albeit slower, not fueled by the same energy that had overtaken Ian.

 

Ian had started scraping up dirt with his fingers at one specific spot. He was frantic, his hair messy, the blood drying on his face and turning a dull brownish red. Luke knelt down and began helping him, his muscles weak with anxiety.

 

Suddenly, Ian inhaled sharply, and Luke didn't even want to look into the hole they'd created. He looked up at Ian, instead; the nineteen year old was absolutely distraught. Tears slid down his cheeks and chin, washing away the blood and any dirt he'd gotten on his face from the digging. He looked as though he was trying to form words but couldn't. He crawled across the ground and into Luke's arms, clinging onto him tightly, like he was the last thing in the world that mattered.

 

"I'm so sorry," Luke said gently, rubbing Ian's back. He sobbed into Luke's bloodstained shirt. "I guess Caddy knew all along, huh?"

 

"I hate him," Ian mumbled. "I want to fucking kill him."

 

_ Tap _ . A raindrop fell onto Luke's hat.

 

"At least now there's some kind of closure," Luke said.  _ Tap tap _ . More raindrops.

 

"I don't fucking care," Ian continued. "I just want him back."

 

_ Tap. Tap tap tap. Tap.  _ It started to rain, drops so big they felt like hail against Luke's back.

 

The storm had begun.


	5. Episode 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life is pretty damn strange that way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it. It's over. It's been a fun month or so, really, it has.
> 
> I made a playlist to go with this AU! (psst - you should totally listen to it while you read this chapter just saying). It's on my tumblr @ghostlyfraggle (there's a link to it in my nav).
> 
> More notes at the bottom. See ya soon.

The Vortex Club could throw one hell of a party.

 

Rain came down in sheets, pelting the windshield of the pickup so hard Luke was worried the glass would break. They were parked in Blackwell's parking lot, staring off at the pool entrance, where the party was being held. It was dark with occasionally flashing lights and music with the bass turned up so loud it rattled Luke's ribcage. They'd been sitting in the truck for two hours or so, largely in silence, waiting for the party to start.

 

The target was Caddy. The goal was unclear. But if Luke knew Ian, which he did, he was going to have to prepare to rewind time. Again.

 

Wordlessly, Ian opened the driver's side door and stepped out of the car. The bloodstains were mostly gone from his face, and he looked disgruntled, almost angry. He'd taken the gun from the junkyard with him, and it rested in the pocket of his hoodie. Luke followed him, a few steps behind as they traversed the sidewalk towards the school.

 

Luke's clothes and skin were instantly soaked with cold raindrops, chilling him down to the bone. He shivered, pulling his sweater tighter around him, which didn't help much because it was heavy with rainwater. The bass became louder, the sounds of people talking and cheering as well, as they drew closer to the pool doors.

 

Ian threw open the door, and Luke scurried in behind him. The place was crowded, but there was next to nobody in the pool—a couple girls in their underwear, but that was it. Danny from Mister Wecht's class had been given the privilege of DJing the event; he was playing mostly his own music. Two makeshift walls had been set up in one corner, functioning as a V.I.P. lounge.

 

Luke looked around and realized, startlingly, that Ian couldn't be seen.

 

He swore under his breath, pushing through the crowd in search of his friend. It wasn't like he'd be easy to miss, that hair would practically glow under the few blacklights that had been positioned around the pool.

 

_ Bzzz bzzz. _

 

Luke pulled his phone out of his pocket.

 

**Ian**

_ 8:46 PM _

hes not here

 

**You**

_ 8:46 PM _

are you sure? that was...quick

 

**Ian**

_ 8:47 PM _

he sent me a text

 

**You**

_ 8:48 PM _

where are you tho?? are we sure im the only one that can time travel here

 

**Ian**

_ 8:49 PM _

i have my ways

 

**Ian**

_ 8:49 PM _

meet me outside and we'll talk

 

Luke sighed deeply, shoving his phone in his pocket. He shoved through the crowd again, heading towards the door to meet Ian outside.

 

The rain had slowed, but bright, white flashes of lightning were frequent. They were often accompanied by soft, distant rumbles of thunder.

 

Luke stood by the door, not wanting to get wetter than he already was as he waited.

 

Luke took quick notice of Mark Jefferson, who was in the crowd of students and stood out. He appeared to be the only teacher at the event.

 

An angry silhouette with glowing purple hair made its way towards Luke. "He's not here, he's at the fucking junkyard," he said, in a tone that implied he'd explode at any second. The two of them exited the building, out into the rain. A furious wind had begun to blow. "He texted me to tell me that he's getting rid of evidence. He's gonna take Jeff, Luke. We've gotta—"

 

"Something wrong, boys?"

 

Mark Jefferson's voice hit Luke's ears. The both of them turned around to face the teacher, who had a smirk plastered to his handsome face and his hands shoved in the pockets of his pants.

 

"No," Luke said carefully. "Nothing's wrong."

 

"Are you sure?" Mark said. Luke kept a careful eye on his pockets—something didn't seem right. "Because the both of you seem awfully distressed."

 

"It's just kinda loud in there," Ian said.

 

"Ah, I understand," Mark continued, stepping slightly closer to the two of them. "Parties do that; get loud."

 

"Why are you here?" Luke asked. "I mean, no offence. You're just the only teacher here."

 

"Thought I'd keep an eye out," he said, and Luke immediately knew he was lying from angle his head was at and the oddly mysterious tone of his voice. "Make sure no one does anything illegal on school property, y'know?"

 

Something about his words almost sounded like a threat.

 

Luke tore his eyes away from Mark for a split second to exchange a glance with Ian.

 

Suddenly, a sharp pain stabbed at his neck and flowed through his veins; his vision blurred, and Ian appeared to be panicking. Ian reached for his pocket...

 

Everything was so,  _ so  _ blurry. He tried his hardest to rewind time, but even holding his eyes open was a challenge at this point. Everything seemed to move in slow motion—his breathing, his heart rate, the motions Ian went through as he pulled his gun out of his pocket.

 

The gunshot was muffled. Someone yelled in pain—was it Mark? And the whole world became a blur of shapes, and then it faded into darkness.

 

Luke had no idea how long he'd been out, but he  _ did  _ know that he felt like total shit.

 

His eyes felt like they were glued shut. One thought kept going through his head:  _ Luke in the dark room. Luke in the dark room. Luke in the dark room. _

 

He was sitting upright, his wrists bound to the arms of a chair. He didn't have nearly enough energy to even  _ try  _ to strain against the bindings, let alone break or loosen them. His feet were bound to the legs of the chair. The air smelled...druggy.

 

He silently hoped he hadn't been injected with anything fatal.

 

The tears in his eyes dissolved whatever gunk had been sealing them shut. He looked around, his vision still pretty damn blurry. He was in  _ that  _ room. The photography studio he'd found with Ian earlier that evening; the one with all the binders and expensive equipment. He was in front of a bunch of bright lights and a plainly-colored backdrop. Mark Jefferson sat on a couch in front of him, his shirtsleeves rolled unevenly, gripping one of his arms.

 

"He's pretty tough," Mark said, and Ian's panicked face immediately flashed into Luke's mind. Oh, god, what had happened to him? Had he been drugged as well? "But he doesn't have the best aim when it comes to moving targets."

 

Mark pulled his hand away from his arm to reveal a wound; a scrape, really. Didn't look too bad, but it was bleeding a lot. Ian had shot him, aiming for his heart, and missed.

 

_ Goddammit Ian,  _ Luke thought.

 

"What? You're not gonna talk?" Mark said, standing up. His shiny brown shoes clicked on the tile floor. "You have a really nice voice, Luke. Brian Wecht brags about you in teacher meetings. Why not show it off?"

 

"Fuck you," Luke spat, using the same tone he used when he rapped normally. Mark laughed. It was the most terrifying laugh Luke had ever heard.

 

"Wonderful," Mark said. A booming clap of thunder rang through their ears. "Well, it's a good thing we're in a storm shelter, huh?"

 

Luke wanted to cry. This was probably the safest place in the whole town, and he was stuck there with Mark Jefferson of all people.

 

"Normally I do still photography," Mark began to explain, walking over to a table where he'd laid out some of his equipment. "But your voice is too perfect to go unheard. I think I'll do some video taping this session."

 

He picked up a video camera and placed it on a tripod in front of Luke. Luke shut his eyes tightly, as though that would make him invisible. He tried to concentrate on a song; A song he'd been working on the day he learned he could time travel. But he was too drugged up to remember how it went.

 

Another sharp pain pierced his neck, and it felt like white-hot fire was spreading through his veins. He opened his eyes instinctively; this time the world wasn't blurry, instead, it seemed sharp and fierce. Every light and sound that found its way towards him felt like a bullet in the head. He strained against the bindings, leaning forward and clenching his teeth, trying not to give Mark the satisfaction of eliciting any kind of noise from him.

 

The song, the song, the song. How did it go?  _ How did it go?  _ It started with...synths, right?

 

His thoughts were too fuzzy. He started humming it instead.

 

"There's that voice," Mark said, clapping his hands together (lightly, as he was still wounded). Luke wanted to punch him in the mouth.

 

_ Hmmm...hmmmmmm... _

 

Luke hummed the song to the best of his ability, trying to concentrate on seconds. But everything was so  _ fast  _ all of a sudden, and he wasn't sure his perception of time was accurate.

 

He shut his eyes.

 

Suddenly, the restraints were gone, and so was the druggy smell, and the ambient storm noises and the presence of the asshole known as Mark Jefferson.

 

"Luke?"

 

Luke's eyes flew open. He was in Mister Wecht's classroom, it was the beginning of the week, and in a few minutes, Ian and Caddy would be fighting in the bathroom.

 

"Could you tell me the answer?" Mister Wecht stared at him with mildly cold eyes.

 

"I-I don't know, sorry," Luke stuttered, curling his hands into fists. Danny snickered and answered the question. Luke looked up at the clock.

 

He'd head to the bathroom, pull the alarm, leave the building, and report Mark Jefferson to the police. Then he could do this whole week over again, hopefully with less death and need to rewind.

 

"Alright class," Mister Wecht said, clapping his hands together. "Unfortunately, I have to let you go. Don't forget to work on your projects..."

 

Luke scooped up his stuff as quickly as he possibly could, his hands shaking anxiously.

 

"...Luke, don't think I can't see you. I'd like to talk to you after class."

 

_ Crap _ . Luke swore under his breath, having forgotten about that.

 

"I really, really have to leave," he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder.

 

"Whatever you're rushing off to can wait," Mister Wecht said firmly, leaning over on his desk. Students tumbled out of the room, leaving Luke and Mister Wecht alone.

 

"No, no it can't," Luke tried to protest.

 

"Is it a life or death situation, Mister Sizemore?" The teacher continued. Luke glanced around nervously. He  _ could, theoretically _ tell the truth, but Mister Wecht would only think he was lying and keep him back longer. So...that was out of the question.

 

"Uh," Luke mumbled.

 

"I thought not," Mister Wecht said. "Anyway, you seemed pretty spacey today. Is something up?"

 

_ Oh, nothing much, I've just time traveled back to the beginning of the week and in the present time I've been kidnapped by a teacher you apparently brag about me to,  _ Luke wanted to say. "Nah, I was just up a little too late last night," is what he actually said.

 

"You should try to get enough sleep. I wouldn't want you to fail my class."

 

Luke nodded, rocking on his heels and casting fleeting glances at the door.

 

"Um, yeah, sure," Luke said, "can I go now?"

 

"Of course." Mister Wecht chuckled, and Luke practically sprinted down the hall towards the bathroom. Ian and Caddy weren't there yet. He pulled the fire alarm without even thinking about it.

 

As though someone had pressed the  _ skip  _ button on Luke's life, he was suddenly in another scene.

 

An office. A police officer was sitting on the desk in front of him. The room was cluttered and smelled like coffee and printer ink. He sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair, and Caddy, as well as Ian's parents and the principal were also there.

 

"Mister Sizemore," the officer said grimly. "Please restate everything you told me earlier."

 

Somehow, he knew exactly what to say.

 

"Caddy let something slip about Jeff's disappearance and I overheard," he began, side-eyeing Caddy. "So I decided to investigate, and linked the case to Mark Jefferson, a teacher at Blackwell. There's an address—I think you should investigate it."

 

He rattled off the address of the dark room. 

 

Everything fast-forwarded again. He was sitting in a courtroom. Ian was next to him, looking bored out of his mind, tapping his fingers on the table in front of them.

 

Fast forward. He was sitting in Ian's room, looking over his shoulder at his desktop computer. A news article about the conviction of Mark Jefferson and the resolution of the Jeff Fabre case was displayed on the screen.

 

An invitation to a funeral sat beside the keyboard on the desk.

 

Fast forward. The air smelled like snow and damp leaves; Ian's hand was in his and they were following Ian's parents, slowly. A funeral in early December.

 

Ian buried his face in Luke's shoulder, stopping for a second. Luke knew this would be hard for him. Jeff had been Luke's replacement, someone Ian had loved and lost and now there was closure and there were bound to be tears to go with it.

 

Luke badly wished he could have stayed at the funeral to comfort Ian, but everything fast forwarded again.

 

Everything smelled like Ian, and it was comforting, but...

 

Something still felt wrong.

 

He was in Ian's bed, his legs tangled in Ian's, and honey golden morning sunlight streamed through the windows. The smell of pancakes wafted up the stairs, and Luke wanted nothing more than to lay there forever.

 

But something was wrong.

 

He wasn't supposed to be here. That wasn't how things were supposed to go, and the sound of rain was breaking into the calmness and he could feel whatever drug Mark Jefferson had injected into him surging through his veins again.

 

_ CRASH _

 

A clap of thunder rang through the dark room, vibrating Luke's ribcage and causing him to struggle against the bindings in instinct.

 

"It's just a little thunder," Mark taunted. Luke made a noise somewhere between a scream and a groan. Mark only chuckled darkly.

 

"Why are you  _ doing this? _ !" Luke exclaimed, frustrated. He began to hyperventilate. Mark raised his eyebrows, seemingly concerned.

 

"Oh, dear, I hope I didn't overdose you," he said. "Oh well. I'll just bury you next to Jeff."

 

" _ NO _ !" Luke yelled. He had to fix everything. He let the song play through his head again.

 

"Luke? Could you tell me the answer?"

 

"No, no, I don't know," Luke said, leaning over on the desk and putting his head in his hands. Mister Wecht raised his eyebrows.

 

Danny didn't snicker this time. Instead he raised his hand politely.

 

"Yes, Danny?" Mister Wecht said. Luke tried to control his breathing as Danny spoke.

 

_ Fuck this, fuck all of this _ , Luke thought. He blinked, and suddenly no one was in the classroom and Mister Wecht was staring at him indignantly.

 

"Luke?" Mister Wecht said. Luke began to lift his head.

 

_ BANG! _

 

A gunshot rang through his ears, and he was back in the dark room again.

 

Mark Jefferson was nowhere to be found.

 

Footsteps could be heard, about to round the corner from the entrance. Luke strained his neck and looked over to the newcomer.

 

Purple hair. Ian had found him.

 

"Ian! Oh my god," Luke exclaimed, his voice shaky and breathy. Ian strutted forward, not appearing to be in any sort of hurry. "I know everything that happened, but the storm's coming and we have to...we have to..."

 

Something was wrong.

 

He didn't look like he was coming to rescue Luke.

 

"Luke," Ian said coldly, stepping closer to the restrained teenager. "Did you really think, that after five  _ goddamn  _ years, I'd want to be your friend again?"

 

This couldn't be real, right? He was hallucinating. Whatever the hell Mark had given him was making him see things.

 

"I can't let go of it, Luke, you know I can't let go of things. I couldn't let go of Jeff, why the hell should I let go of all the damage you caused me?"

 

But damn, the words still stung like hell.

 

"I don't want you. I don't want anyone. I wanted Jeff and he'd  _ fucking dead _ . What do I have to live for? What's fucking stopping me from injecting myself with that shit Jefferson gave you and killing myself?"

 

Luke shut his eyes tightly. Hallucination-Ian went silent.

 

When Luke opened his eyes, Ian was gone and Jimmy was sitting on the couch. His cheeks were red like he'd been crying and there was blood on his arms.

 

"Oh, god," Luke barely whispered.

 

"I might be alive," Jimmy said quietly, "but I still don't have a damn thing to live for."

 

"That's not true," Luke said. He knew it wasn't real but he still felt the need to say it. "You have so much to live for. You're young. You have a future ahead of you."

 

"What future? The only future I imagined was with you."

 

Luke shut his eyes again. When he opened them, Jeff was there, sitting on the couch and strumming delicately at his guitar.

 

"He loved me more than he'll ever love you," Jeff said, and Luke wondered if it was his real voice or some voice his brain had made up. "And I didn't even fucking love him back."

 

Luke didn't want to believe Jeff's words, but a small part of him did.

 

"He has this very guitar in his room," Jeff continued. "He put up missing persons' posters for me  _ every day _ , even though he knew damn well I wasn't coming back, not for him, not for anyone. He keeps my guitar pick in his pocket. He kept all the selfies I took on his phone and he even stares at them sometimes. How could you think he could ever love you as much?"

 

Luke shut his eyes again, so tightly he saw stars.

 

He opened them again and Caddy was pointing a gun at his face.

 

He closed them, deciding he wasn't going to open them again this time.

 

_ Alright _ , he thought, stretching out his fingers.  _ I need to think. Think think think. How can I get out of this? _

 

He was hallucinating, he was probably too drugged up to walk, he was bound to a chair, and it was furiously storming outside.

 

Things didn't look particularly good.

 

_ Clunk _ .

 

He didn't dare open his eyes, worried he was hallucinating again. But when Mark's footsteps echoed into the room, he nearly changed his mind.

 

"What was that?" Mark said, but no, he could still be hallucinating. So he didn't open his eyes.

 

"That would have been me," a new voice spoke. Luke recognized it as a voice that had yelled at him and terrorized Jimmy Whetzel; a voice he never thought would be coming to his rescue.

 

David Madsen.

 

Luke finally decided to open his eyes. Mark stood near one of the bookshelves with his hands in the air, and David Madsen was pointing a gun at his head, eyebrows stern.

 

"Oh my god," Luke said. David cast a fleeting glance his way, but put his eyes right back on Mark to make sure he didn't move.

 

"Move and I'll fucking shoot," David said. "Where's Ian?"

 

_ Ian _ ? Luke thought. And then he remembered that he still didn't know where Ian had gone; he'd shot Mark, and then Luke passed out.

 

"Dunno," Mark shrugged innocently. "Probably hiding from the storm."

 

"I saw what happened, I was watching," David continued, stepping closer. "He shot you, and then you wrestled the gun out of his hands and told him something and he fucking booked it to his truck.  _ Where is he _ ? What did you tell him?"

 

Mark reached into his pocket.

 

"He's the same place he would've gone if I hadn't said anything," Mark said grimly. "Dead."

 

Before either David or Luke had the chance to react, Mark pulled a gun,  _ Ian's  _ gun, out of his pocket and shot.

 

Luke shut his eyes and rewound time.

 

_ Clunk _ .

 

He opened his eyes, and Mark walked into view. "David!" Luke exclaimed. "I know where Ian is!"

 

David ran into the room and immediately shot at Mark, no hesitation, no remorse. Luke flinched at the noise, but sighed in relief when David rushed over and began cutting at his bindings with a pocket knife.

 

"Where is he?" David asked.

 

"The junkyard," Luke explained. "We found where Jeff was buried, and Caddy said he was going to get rid of the evidence."

 

"He's not safe," David said, starting on the bindings holding Luke's feet. Luke stretched his fingers slowly and moved his arms, letting blood circulate through them normally again. "There's a tornado coming. This is a storm shelter, we'd be safe here, but..."

 

"Did you follow Mark all the way here?" Luke asked. "How did you manage to not get caught?"

 

"I'm a security guard," David said. "I'm stealthier than you think. By the way, I know about you and Ian and the pool. I just thought I wouldn't interrupt the moment and make him hate me even more than he already does."

 

"He doesn't hate you," Luke stood up and shook out his legs. "He just thinks you're a little strict."

 

"Well, doesn't matter what he thinks," David said. "He'll be dead soon if we don't find him. C'mon."

 

Luke leaned on David as they left the dark room and walked to David's car, parked right outside of the barn. The wind whipped by so hard that Luke's hat flew off and he didn't bother to try and pick it back up.

 

The barn had been destroyed even more than it already was, pieces of wood falling to the ground and walls crumbling like shortbread cookies. Thunder crashed. Rain pelted their backs as they walked to the car, and Luke wasn't entirely sure they'd be able to drive.

 

But by some miracle, they did.

 

They drove to the junkyard. Ian was hiding hopelessly in his truck when they found him, and didn't know where Caddy had gone. Luke kissed him quickly on the lips, letting his taste mingle with the rainwater and the warmth from his lips with the electricity in the air.

 

"What now?" David yelled over the noise of the storm. "We can't get back to that storm shelter, we'd be heading towards the tornado."

 

"Where's mom?" Ian asked.

 

"At the diner!" David answered. "We can go there if you really want, but I doubt it'll be safe."

 

"You. David," Ian began, "go to the diner. Take mom and whoever else is in there and bring them to the apartment next door. Hide in the basement and  _ don't leave _ , even when the storm is over. Luke and I are going somewhere else; but we'll be safe, okay?"

 

David hesitated for a moment, but nodded. "Okay. I love you, y'know."

 

"Yeah, I know," Ian said blandly.

 

David got in his car and drove away. Ian slipped his hand into Luke's holding on as tightly as possible, and they began walking towards the lighthouse.

 

Luke no longer felt so bad; still druggy, of course, but not as shaky. He still didn't know if he'd been overdosed, but he had a good feeling that he hadn't been.

 

Ian's hand was tight in his. The storm got less furious as they drew closer to the lighthouse. They stood on the top of the cliff, looking out at the electric tornado, and Luke wasn't sure if the drops of water on his face were raindrops or tears or both.

 

"Luke," Ian began. "It's me."

 

"What?"

 

"This...this is my fault. I was supposed to die, right?"

 

"What? No, I..."

 

"Caddy was meant to shoot me. You time traveled and stopped it and then...there were other times, weren't there? There were other times I was supposed to die and you stopped it."

 

"Ian, you weren't  _ supposed  _ to die..."

 

"No, no, I was," Ian continued, turning towards Luke. "And that's why this storm is here, now. It wants to kill me. This storm is the only way the universe can kill me without you being able to fix it, and yet..."

 

Some of the dye from his hair was washing out and down his face, staining his cheeks with purple.

 

"So you need to go back," Ian said, obviously distraught. "You need to go back and let me die."

 

"I can't do that," Luke said. "You know I can't."

 

"Luke, you have to," Ian said, a tear streaking through the rainwater on his face. "Or it'll just keep happening. I'll keep dying, and you'll keep trying to fix it, and there'll be more storms and—"

 

Luke cut him off by grabbing his jaw firmly and pulling their lips together.

 

"I  _ can't _ ," he said firmly against Ian's lips. "I can't live without you. I barely made it through those five years and I couldn't go through five more if you were dead. Hell, I probably couldn't get through five  _ days  _ if you were dead."

 

Ian pulled away slowly, holding onto Luke's hips so tightly it might leave bruises.

 

"I won't argue more," he said, a sad smile stretching across his face. "But be prepared to rewind time to save my life almost every day."

 

"I can deal with that."

 

They watched sadly as the storm destroyed Arcadia Bay.

 

David, Joyce, Jimmy, Wallid, and Caddy survived the storm by hiding in an apartment building as Ian had instructed.

 

Danny and Brian Wecht made it, too.

 

The destruction would cost millions, if not billions, of dollars to repair; but not everything was destroyed, by some kind of miracle.

 

Ian's neighborhood stayed mostly intact. So did the school. The diner was destroyed, though, and Joyce was now out of work.

 

Jeff's funeral was set in early December.

 

Luke woke up to the smell of pancakes wafting into Ian's room.

 

Ian's body was pressed up against his, their legs tangled together like spiderwebs. Everything smelled familiar and comforting, and it felt  _ right. _

 

It was the day of the funeral. Ian wasn't going to dress up. "Jeff hated to see me in formal clothes," Ian had said. "I'm sure he wouldn't want me to wear them now."

 

Luke decided he wouldn't either. He hadn't brought any from home, anyway. A black sweater would suffice.

 

Luke glanced at the alarm clock.  _ 7:46 AM _ , it read. Too early to be awake and too early to bother waking Ian up.

 

_ Too late _ , Luke thought, as Ian stirred against him.

 

"G'morning," Ian mumbled sleepily. Luke chuckled.

 

"Good morning," Luke responded. "It's early."

 

"How early?" Ian asked.

 

"Quarter to eight," Luke said simply. "We have to leave at like ten."

 

"I don't wanna go," Ian said, wrapping his arms around Luke's waist and shoving his nose in the crook of Luke's neck. "I'm gonna cry. I don't want you to see me cry, you'll make fun of me."

 

"I won't make fun of you," Luke reassured. "It's a funeral for someone you loved. I'd cry too, if I knew him."

 

"Augh," Ian groaned. "His girlfriend's gonna be there. I don't wanna talk to  _ her _ ."

 

"You don't have to," Luke said.

 

"Turn around so I can see your dumb face," Ian whined. 

 

Luke rolled his eyes. "And why should I do that?"

 

"So I can kiss you for an hour," Ian continued. "To pass the time, y'know?"

 

Luke chuckled. "Are you sure you won't die of asphyxiation? I don't want to have to rewind this early in the morning."

 

"Maybe not a whole hour," Ian said. "Maybe just like forty-five minutes or so."

 

"Hey, do you think Jeff's ghost haunts his guitar?" Luke abruptly changed the subject, rolling over to face Ian. Ian frowned.

 

"I dunno. I think he'd get sick of us and go find something else to haunt, to be honest."

 

"Sick? Of  _ us _ ? Pfff, who could get sick of  _ us _ ?"

 

"Well, Jimmy," Ian began to rattle off names, "and Wallid, and my mom, and Caddy, and—"

 

"Okay, yeah, I get it."

 

Ian leaned forward and trapped Luke in a long, gentle kiss.

 

Luke pulled away. "You wanna know something I've learned, Ian?"

 

"Not really," Ian said honestly. "But go ahead."

 

"We went through all of that crap a month and a half ago," Luke began, "and now we're here, together, and everything is peaceful and fine. Things can change at the drop of a hat and you shouldn't things aren't going to get better because they  _ will _ ."

 

"Life is pretty damn strange that way, Luke."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ☆*･゜ﾟ･*\\(^O^)/*･゜ﾟ･*☆ CONFETTI TIME!!!
> 
> It's over. It's done. I mean not totally because I have a bham oneshot idea and also a side plot thing with jimmy but the main story is totally, 100% over.
> 
> What did you guys think? Did I make anyone cry :3c
> 
> (also message me on my tumblr about this AU i still have a lotta feelings for it @ghostlyfraggle if u 4got)
> 
> (LIKE IM SERIOUS I HAVE 908765789 HEADCANONS FOR THIS SHIT)
> 
> (which are technically canon bc im the creator??)
> 
> (anyway)
> 
> Thanks so much for stopping by. I really appreciate it.
> 
> Ciao for now~
> 
> (｡･ω･｡)ﾉ♡


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